


Dreaming of You

by Laurasauras



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gay, Horcrux Hunting, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 06:56:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Abandoned for now. Fallen out of love with Harry Potter. :(After stealing the locket, Ron and Hermione get their act together, meaning that Harry spends a lot of time trying to give them space. When the Horcrux takes shape of his school enemy, Draco Malfoy, in order to torture him, Harry can't help but rise to his taunts, like he always has. But the Horcrux can read Harry's mind, as it's basing it's model of Malfoy on him, and so it knows that Harry's feelings towards Malfoy haven't always been as platonically hatey as they should have been.And Harry finds out that there's more than one way to torment someone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this is going on in Harry's mind. Hell, most of it is. This is my take on Deathly Hallows, and I know it's bordering on crack fic, but I have tried to be mostly accurate to main events, that sort of thing. And where possible, I've avoided just repeating scenes from DH. You can go back and read stuff if you need to, but I'll do a little summary thing rather than writing it all out, so hopefully you won't need to.
> 
> Thank you to fortify_countrye for the beta and for generally listening to me freak out!

It had been rather tense since the realisation that the Horcrux made them feel awful. At first they took to wearing it in shifts, for it was too precious to leave lying around in the tent, but Ron was still recovering from his splinch, and it was awful to have two out of three of them always feeling sensitive and raw. In desperation, Harry shoved it in the Moleskin pouch around his neck, and found it took a lot longer to affect them that way, and, of course, no one was getting into it except him. 

The thing was, Harry had rather expected for things to pick up a lot once they got the locket. He thought that the first success would lead naturally onto the next one. It was beyond bizarre to be the one chasing after something rather than someone that things just happened to. He kept waiting for a dragon or something to pop up and force them into action.

 

A few weeks into camping, they Apparated to a beach that Hermione had been to as a child. It was the first truly warm day they’d had, unseasonably warm in fact, and also the first time they had Apparated without Ron immediately throwing up. Harry sighed with relief and Hermione threw her arms around Ron’s neck.

‘I didn’t want to say anything, but I was so worried, the wound was basically healed and I had this awful feeling that you had just associated Apparition with being sick and that you’d be stuck with it and—’

Harry went to exchange an exasperated look with Ron, but Ron had an odd look on his face and Hermione still hadn’t let him go, so he started setting up the tent and their protective charms instead. When he was finished, they had stopped hugging but were talking together quietly, and he felt like he was intruding. 

Hermione saw him lingering and waved him over. 

‘I was thinking about the last time I was here. There was this diver from Australia, he found these creatures strapped to the cliffs and we ate them for dinner together with the whole campsite. He caught so many, got carried away, he said, so it can’t be too hard. And we could use a bubble head charm. And I know this other charm that helps with the pressure underwater, too.’

‘I can stay at the tent,’ Ron said. ‘Someone should keep the locket and I don’t fancy being underwater with it.’

‘Oh, I hadn’t thought about that,’ said Hermione. ‘Do you know if the ring Dumbledore found was cursed or if that was just the Horcrux, Harry?’

Harry shook his head, hating how little he knew. That would have been a useful thing for Dumbledore to tell him. 

‘I’ll stay, though. I got to go to that market last time.’ And he felt like Ron and Hermione needed some space to figure themselves out, but he didn’t fancy saying that.

They left after making sure Harry was sure and promising not to take too long. Harry found himself alone for the first time since they left Grimmauld Place. 

 

The tent felt oddly empty and despite the pouch around his neck, Harry felt more free than he had in weeks. The thing about this mission, was that he had been the only one in Dumbledore’s office last year, so he felt as though the others kept looking at him, expecting him to drop some piece of knowledge that would make everything make sense. Or worse, like Harry was keeping that knowledge on purpose.

It was a relief not to have to think about what his facial expressions were doing. Harry flopped on the couch and considered his options. He could go back to trying to read the painfully complicated book about Horcruxes that Hermione had told him was the most accessible of the ones she had brought. He could look over their notes, or try to make new ones. He had been trying to just let his thoughts wander and write whatever came into his head in an attempt to put new information down. But he knew he wasn’t going to use his unexpected alone time to do something that he could and should be doing while his friends were there. He was going to have a long, relaxing wank.

Living in a dormitory with four other boys meant that he had gotten used to getting one off quickly in the shower to relieve tension, and not expecting more. Even though he had resorted to silencing charms on his curtains as much as the next bloke, he always sensed when someone else was using one, so felt uncomfortable doing it. After all, he generally didn’t silence his bed, so doing so was a pretty easy indicator of  _ why _ he was doing it, and that wasn’t a thought he wanted. So that was an emergency situation kind of wank, where he’d woken up hard and it wasn’t going away, or he just could not sleep no matter what, or a couple of times, when he’d already had a shower, but one wank hadn’t been enough to get rid of that specific kind of arousal that made him feel tense and unable to function. 

There hadn’t been too many times in his life that he had felt free to take his time, and there were times that he felt like that was normal, like it was all something he should be ashamed of. Those times were generally when he should have been focussing on something more important, but recently he had decided not to get so wound up about it. He didn’t beat himself up about eating or showering or even playing chess when he could have been sitting around worrying about the latest threat on the wizarding world, so he wasn’t going to feel guilty about this anymore, either. 

Saying that, he wasn’t so bold as to just get down to it on the couch. He set a proximity alarm on the flap of the tent and went to his bed. He took all his clothes off, because he could, and got under the doona. He stroked down his chest, trying to tease himself in the way that Ginny had done with disturbing expertise, but despite the time he had and truly wanting to relax into it, he felt a bit ridiculous and also like he just wanted to touch himself properly. 

He was already hard from just thinking about this, and allowed himself a small sigh as he started to stroke himself. 

 

He remembered the last time he and Ginny had been together, the way she had skived off her Potions class and caught him in a free period and they had snuck into one of Harry’s secret passageways. 

‘We were making euphoric potions,’ she had said as they had hurried to the statue that hid the entrance. Harry had the Invisibility Cloak, he always did then, was always ready to whip it on to stalk Malfoy, but there was something more thrilling about not using it. 

‘I told Slughorn I’d inhaled too deeply, got all giddy. I was hoping I’d be able to catch you.’

Harry loved the way she didn’t hesitate to break the rules. He loved the way she had probably put on a performance to get out of class. He really loved that she had been thinking about him and just had to see him. Once in the passageway, Harry had grabbed her by the waist and pressed her against the wall. Her legs had naturally hooked around his hips and she had wriggled deliciously against him as they kissed frantically. 

Neither of them said why they were so desperate. It was as if they knew it would be their last time. It wouldn’t surprise him if she’d known, even though he honestly hadn’t. 

Ginny was a wild lover. She bit his lips and pulled his hair. She tore his clothes and scratched his back. Once she had drawn blood, but she hadn’t been the slightest remorseful and Harry honestly didn’t care in the heat of things.

On that day, Harry had gripped her bum and slid his hands to touch her and found she wasn’t wearing panties, which drove him wild.

‘Don’t you dare put me down, Harry Potter,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘You’re plenty strong enough to fuck me standing up.’

That memory was enough to push Harry over the edge, and he was abruptly brought back to the tent. He checked his watch and cleaned himself up. He had no idea what time Ron and Hermione would be back, so he decided to read that bloody book so that when they asked what he had done he would be able to say something. 

In the end, he took out the Marauder’s Map and stared at Ginny’s dot for a long time instead. He thought maybe the pain that he was feeling might not be worth the good feelings from before. Part of him hoped that she could sense that he was thinking about her. Another part hoped that she wasn’t torturing herself as much as he was.


	2. Chapter 2

Ron and Hermione were driving Harry mad. He missed the days of tense silence, compared to the awkward, flirty silence that was becoming more and more frequent. It was rare that none of them was blushing at something another one had said. Harry did not like that he was blushing as often as them, but the whole thing was so embarrassing. 

Harry and Ron were at a stream, Harry trying to Summon fish and Ron trying to catch them (‘Pretend it’s a Quaffle!’ Harry had said), when Ron finally said he was going to do something about it.

Harry would have been quite happy to pretend like nothing was happening for the rest of his life.

‘So, I think I’m going to make a move on Hermione,’ Ron said as Harry balanced on a rock, peering into the water. If he Summoned fish from close by, they seemed to be a bit slower and easier to catch, and he didn’t want to alarm some Muggle with a fish flying through the air if he could avoid it. 

‘Okay,’ said Harry.

‘I don’t think you should be there for it,’ said Ron.

‘Wow. No. No thank you.’ 

‘I mean, you should make an excuse to leave the tent. I mean, please do that.’

‘Yeah, it’s a bit late today, right? Can you keep it in your pants til tomorrow? After we move again?’

‘Yeah! No, it doesn’t need to be tomorrow, even, just wanted to-’

‘Ron, you’re my best mate, I want you to be happy. And I really want for the awkwardness to stop. So ... I guess find out one way or the other and try to keep the boat steady no matter what?’

‘D’you reckon she’ll go for it?’

‘She clearly wants to. I’d say if she’s not keen it would only be because we’re all stuck together, but it’s the end of the world, so fuck it. Not worth avoiding future awkwardness when we might not have a future.’

‘That was the most depressing pep talk I’ve ever heard.’

‘Right. Well. D’you think if I Stun the fish first you might be able to catch it?’

Thankfully, Ron let Harry change the subject. Perhaps he sensed that while Harry had been happy (or at least resigned) to listen to Ron go on about Lavender, Hermione was different. Hermione was like a sister to Harry. He would have to remind Ron that he never told him about Ginny stuff if he got chatty later.

 

The next day, Hermione Apparated them to the forest they had camped near for the Quidditch World Cup. Harry had never travelled with the Dursley’s and Ron only knew popular Wizarding locations, so Hermione had ended up in charge of where they stayed. Harry knew that she was running out of places that she had been with her parents, even though they had holidayed quite frequently. She was looking at maps more and more, trying to come up with ideas. She took a lot onto her shoulders. 

Once they were set up, Harry took Hermione aside. 

‘Could you do me a favour?’ he asked.

‘If I can,’ she said, already looking suspicious.

‘It’s nothing, really. Just-’ Harry looked around to check that Ron was still in the kitchen and couldn’t hear them. ‘Ron’s been driving me a bit mad. This tent’s so small, sometimes, you know?’

Hermione smiled sadly, but nodded.

‘Right, well I just want like two hours to be alone with my thoughts, but if I say I’m going to go have a hunt around for mushrooms or whatever, he’s going to want to come with. So, could you just … keep him in the tent? And I really will do some gathering, or whatever.’

‘Yes, of course. Just … Talk to him, or me, if you need to. It’s not good to bottle feelings up when you’re living close like this.’

Harry forced himself to nod seriously and then ducked out. He heard Hermione immediately engage Ron in conversation and smiled as he walked further away from the tent.

 

It was like being back in the past. Even though it had been two and a half years, Harry recognised the spot where they found Winky taking the blame for the Dark Mark not far from their campsite. That was probably the spot Hermione had been thinking of when they Apparated. He traced the path they had taken that night, remembering Stan Shunpike desperately trying to talk up the Veelas and all the other people they had seen avoiding the rogue Death Eaters. 

Harry stopped when he reached the spot where Malfoy had been lounging, waiting for his slimy father to stop tormenting Muggles. 

_ ‘Better keep that bushy head down,’ _ he had warned them. Always attacking Hermione over her parents. It must have been infuriating to have someone that he thought was so inferior always beating him. 

Harry had barely thought about Malfoy since that night when he hadn’t killed Dumbledore. He had been lowering his wand.

_ ‘You don’t understand. He’ll kill me.’ _ And of course he was right. That didn’t really make it better. It certainly didn’t make him bringing those monsters into the school. Harry could hear Sirius shouting at Pettigrew when he had tried that defence, ‘ _ Then you should have died! Died rather than betrayed your friends!’ _

Of course, Dumbledore wasn’t Malfoy’s friend. He was just an old man that ran his school.  _ ‘I reckon that Dumbledore’s the worst thing that ever happened to this place,’ _ he had said. Harry wondered what he would have done, if he had to choose between killing Snape and being killed. Probably confronted the person making him make that choice. Maybe he would have done a bad job on purpose.

‘Well yes, obviously that’s what I tried at first, Potter,’ Harry said, imitating Malfoy’s tone. He could almost see him, leaning against that tree, trying to look brave even though he looked exhausted. 

‘How am I supposed to look? I haven’t slept properly since I was fourteen!’ 

Harry didn’t know what would be worse to live with, your father being a favourite of Voldemort or being in his bad books. It must have been a relief to be at Hogwarts.

‘Of course it was. It always was. Do you really think my father was sunshine and puppies even before the Dark Lord came back?’

Harry thought his mental image of Malfoy was becoming a bit too solid. Frowning, he took the pouch containing the locket off his neck and placed it on the ground. Malfoy dissolved into nothing the instant he was no longer touching it. 

‘That’s just great,’ Harry told the empty forest. ‘I think I’d rather have dealt with Tom Riddle following me around than Malfoy.’

The forest, naturally, didn’t answer. 

Harry returned to the tent three hours after he had left it, figuring that should be enough time for Ron and Hermione to sort themselves out but not so much time that they would start worrying about him. He had a bag full of different kinds of mushrooms and another full of berries that he had resisted eating because he just wasn’t as good at detecting poison as Hermione was. 

He would have covered that in DA if he had continued with it. He probably would have been a lot better at it if he had learned from any other teacher besides Snape. He just developed some kind of block when learning from him. There hadn’t been any exams last year, seeing as they had two years to study for their NEWTs, but Harry wouldn’t have been surprised if he had slipped from his position as top of the class.

‘Any other year, I’d have taken it from you myself,’ Malfoy said behind him. Harry ignored him. The Horcrux Malfoy was evidently produced from Harry’s own mind, so answered Harry’s thoughts the way Harry thought the real Malfoy would, but was unable to tell Harry anything that Harry didn’t know or assume about him. 

Harry made a lot of noise stomping towards the tent and then unzipping the entrance, not wanting to surprise his friends in a compromising position. When he entered the tent, he found himself with Hermione’s wand pointed steadily between his eyes. 

‘Oh, sorry, Harry!’ she said, slipping her wand back in her sleeve holster. ‘It didn’t sound like your footsteps.’

Harry smiled sheepishly and moved to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Ron gave him a subtle thumbs up behind Hermione’s back and Harry grinned at him. 

Harry took the pouch off his neck and placed it on the table while he made them all cups of tea. He sighed with relief when Malfoy vanished again. Clearly he was only visible to Harry, as Hermione would have mentioned something if Malfoy had casually walked into their tent with Harry. It would have almost been easier to talk about it if she could see him too, but maybe that was for the best. 

 

Once settled in his seat of the couch, the pouch on the coffee table, Harry told them what had happened. 

‘I was thinking about last time we were here, about Malfoy basically telling us that his dad was out there being all Death Eater-ey, and then about him not-killing Dumbledore,’

‘Oh, Harry, you really shouldn’t dwell-’

‘Let him speak, Hermione!’

Harry gave Ron a raised eyebrow but continued, ‘Obviously these were not my most positive thoughts, and I guess the Horcrux knew that. Anyway, now I’ve got a ghost-Horcrux-Malfoy following me around and insulting me whenever I’m touching the pouch.’

‘What?’ blurted Ron. 

‘Like the version of Tom Riddle you met in the Chamber of Secrets?’ Hermione asked.

‘Uh, no, because that was Riddle’s own memory, so he knew everything that 16-year-old Riddle knew. Malfoy sort of looks like that, like kind of transparent, but he doesn’t know anything that I don’t know, so the Horcrux must be using my memory and shoving it back at me. Does that make sense?’

‘Well, yeah, it does that, but Malfoy?’ said Ron. 

‘What do you mean it does that?’ Harry asked. 

‘It’s like a Boggart, right? Like it shows you things you don’t want to see.’

‘For me, it just makes me feel over-sensitive and hopeless,’ Hermione said. 

‘Makes me feel angry and makes me remember all the stupid things I’ve ever done,’ Harry said. 

‘Right,’ Ron said, looking a bit disturbed.

‘Maybe you’re a more visual person,’ Hermione said. ‘There’s basically nothing in the books about the effect being around one can have on a person because generally they’re either kept locked up or kept by the person who created the Horcrux. There was this one wizard, hang on, let me check.’

Hermione dug around in her beaded bag. Usually she unpacked the Horcrux books onto the table as soon as they set up camp so that anyone could go through them. Harry tried not to think about what they had been doing that wasn’t reading. 

‘Yes, here, see? The wizard Hereward, he’s the one people think that Beedle eventually based the  _ Warlock’s Hairy Heart _ on, which I think is probably a euphemism for a Horcrux. And Hereward was rumoured to give a piece of his soul to his lover, probably thought it was romantic. But he eventually killed her, so no one knows what happened there. He killed his father to get his wand, so he wasn’t exactly-’

‘Not a nice bloke,’ Ron supplied. 

‘No. But Horcruxes are incredibly rare. It’s not just that you have to kill someone, because although that’s a deterrent these days, when Herpo the Foul invented them it was a fairly accepted part of life. I mean, if you could get through your life in Ancient Greece without killing someone or being killed, it was pretty extraordinary. But the magic itself … I mean, it isn’t written down in any of these books, just hinted at, because I don’t think even these authors wanted to be responsible for, well, You-Know-Who, so …’

‘So what you’re saying is that either no one has spent as much time around someone else’s Horcrux as us, or they kept it quiet, or no one wanted to write about it because Horcruxes scare the pants of even the worst wizards.’ 

‘Exactly. 

Ron was still staring at the illustrations around the story Hermione had dug out. She closed the book with a low thump and he seemed to come back to the room. 

‘So, I shouldn’t worry about Malfoy?’

‘Well, he’s not exactly the biggest threat even when he’s solid,’ Ron scoffed. 

‘What do you see?’ Hermione asked gently.

‘Sometimes I see Ginny, and she’s dying but there’s nothing I can do. Because she’s not real. But she gets really angry about me not helping her. Or Mum, telling me I’ve abandoned them all. Or … just bad stuff, you know?’

Hermione reached out and held Ron’s hand. Harry put his hand awkwardly on Ron’s shoulder. Harry picked up the pouch and flinched when Malfoy appeared.

‘This is all  _ very _ Gryffindor, isn’t it?’ he sneered. 

Harry ignored him and dug the Marauder’s Map out and handed it to Ron.

‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good,’ he said. As the ink unfurled, he flicked to Gryffindor tower and found Ginny’s dot. He pointed to it. ‘She’s fine.’

‘Thanks,’ Ron said, not taking his eyes from his sister’s name. 

‘Keep it,’ Harry said. He felt selfish for not giving it over sooner. 

‘You  _ are _ selfish,’ Malfoy told him. ‘You were just shagging the bitch, that’s Weasley’s  _ sister _ .’ 

Harry shoved the pouch back onto the coffee table with disgust. 

‘Malfoy?’ Hermione asked.

Harry nodded.

‘I only see them if I wear it for a while,’ Ron offered. ‘If you leave it off for a while, next time you put it on he won’t come back straight away.’

Harry’s heart clenched in sympathy. He couldn’t believe how long Ron had been suffering in silence, imagining that he and Hermione were going through the same and never bringing it up. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Ron and Hermione were together. They didn’t move into the same bedroom, or kiss on the couch or anything like that, but they sometimes held hands while they went about their business, and Harry tried to make himself scarce on a regular basis so that they wouldn’t feel the need to ask him to. That would be fairly mortifying. 

They weren’t making any progress. 

Harry had brought up Godric’s Hollow several times, but Hermione was sure that Voldemort would expect Harry to go there and Ron agreed with everything Hermione said. They weren’t as tense as they were before, so that left Harry to be tense on his own. He and Hermione had agreed quietly to try and have Ron wearing the pouch as infrequently as possible, because it clearly affected him more than them. Hermione seemed to handle it the best, but Harry insisted on carrying it the most. It was his burden.

Besides, Malfoy might say awful things, particularly about Ron and Hermione, but when Harry was alone, he was actually kind of funny. Not that it was a pleasant kind of humour, or that Harry would admit it, even to Ron and Hermione. Harry didn’t consciously remember all the lyrics to  _ Weasley Is Our King _ , but Horcrux Malfoy did, and he sang it on repeat for two hours while Harry snuck into a farm and stole eggs before their owner woke up. It was distracting, and didn’t lend itself to Harry’s sneaking, but it also was something new to think about. 

‘I have more verses, I just know it,’ Malfoy told Harry as he walked slowly back to their tent, trying not to crack any of the eggs. ‘I would have been saving them up, so that you wouldn’t get used to any of them. Half of insulting someone properly is surprising them, you know.’

‘It always did sting less when I was expecting it,’ Harry agreed. He had started replying to Malfoy out loud, which was a terrible habit, and Hermione in particular was horrified by it, but it hard  _ not _ to reply to Malfoy. 

‘I bet you loved seeing Weasley fail. You were supposed to be the better one, but really you were only better at Quidditch. And avoiding dying, I suppose, but really, we’re all equal on that one so far.’

‘Ron’s good at Quidditch,’ Harry said.

‘Right. And I’m a house elf.’ 

‘Better than you, d’you remember that time I caught the Snitch that was practically on top of your head because you were too busy taunting me to actually play?’

‘I remember breaking your nose with my foot. Do you think I could do that in this form if I  _ really  _ believed in myself?’

Harry didn’t reply because he was getting close to the tent and didn’t want to be told off again. 

‘I probably have loads more material and I’m  _ stuck _ repeating things I’ve already said to you because I’m a figment of  _ your _ imagination. If Granger was conjuring me, I bet I would have some properly good things to say. She was always more creative than you. And a better worker. She might have figured this whole thing out if Weasley hadn’t shacked up with her. He’s literally fucked her brains out, she’s useless to you now. Bet you didn’t see this coming, right? You’re a third wheel on an adventure that’s supposed to be all about you,  _ The Chosen One _ . What a load of shit. They chose you by accident, could have been anybody. Could have been  _ Longbottom _ . Can you imagine? That idiot trying to stand up to the Dark Lord? He would have come back years ago. Or not been killed or whatever it was you did to him in the first place.’

Harry ignored Malfoy as best as he could as he placed the eggs in a bowl and made tea for them all. He pulled out a fourth cup and had a teabag in it before he remembered that Malfoy wasn’t really there and he wouldn’t make him a cup of tea anyway if he were. Naturally, Malfoy noticed.

‘Were you going to make me a cup of tea? I’m touched, Potter, I didn’t know you  _ loved _ me. How very proper. Dumbledore would approve, you know. He’d congratulate you for forgiving me like the insufferably noble hero he thought you were. Are you going to make me dinner next? Perhaps a glass of wine? Fluff up your pillow and let me have the bed while you take the couch?’

Harry handed out the tea and pulled open the nearest book to his seat on the couch, pretending to read. It was hard enough to tune Malfoy out when he was on the other side of the Great Hall; it was impossible to do so while he was literally in his head. 

It was a bit of a surprise when Malfoy stopped speaking. Harry looked up and he had a worryingly gleeful look on his face. 

‘Potter,’ he said. ‘How long have you fancied me?’

‘What?’ Harry said, forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to speak to Malfoy. ‘I do not!’

‘Harry, he’s not there. Give me the pouch, I’ll wear it for a bit.’ Harry tore his eyes off Malfoy’s wicked grin and looked up at Hermione.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘You’ve been wearing that too long, give it to me.’

Harry handed her the pouch. He looked back at the chair which he had come to think of as belonging to Malfoy (and how messed up was that?), but it was empty again. Harry shuddered. It probably had been too long. Harry turned back to his book and was surprised to see that it was  _ Gadding with Ghouls _ by Gilderoy Lockhart. Not something he would have chosen to read. 

Rather than admit that he had spent the last ten minutes pretending to read while being distracted  _ by what were certainly lies _ , Harry sat and read the damned book.

‘Harry, are you okay?’ Hermione asked him. She was still hovering. 

‘Fine,’ he said. He tried for a smile. 

‘You can talk to us,’ she said. 

Harry nodded and went back to his book, pretending that it was more interesting than Hermione’s concern. He really didn’t want Hermione to be concerned for him. He  _ really _ didn’t want to talk about his feelings. Or the absence of them.

 

Harry’s scar had been prickling endlessly, especially when he wore the pouch and especially when he’d been wearing it long enough for Malfoy to show up, which seemed to be happening more and more quickly every time. 

Malfoy liked to tease Harry about the expressions he made when his scar hurt. Ron was disappointed that Harry wasn’t at least picking up information about the Order or his family. Hermione was disappointed that Harry wasn’t better at Occlumency.

‘ _ I _ can do Occlumency,’ Draco would tell Harry, whenever Hermione mentioned it.

‘But you wouldn’t want to, would you, lover-boy? Couldn’t have me disappearing …’

 

One night, in Autumn, they heard voices coming from the river near where they were camping. Though they were trying as hard as they could to stay optimistic, the lack of news or action was wearing on all of them.

They drew their wands and waited just outside the tent. Their protective charms should hold. They really should. 

They couldn’t hear the words over the river, so Hermione dug Extendable Ears from the beaded bag and Ron gave her a quick kiss of approval. They listened as the people talked to one another, recognising the voices of Ted Tonks first, then Dean Thomas. 

They heard about Ginny stealing Gryffindor’s sword and about it being a fake. They listened to them debate whether Harry was indeed the Chosen One. Hermione pulled out Phineas Nigellus’s portrait and they discovered that the sword could destroy Horcruxes. Hermione shoved the portrait back in her bag. Harry punched the air and started pacing violently around the tent. On his way back towards Ron and Hermione, he noticed Ron’s face.

‘Ron?’

Ron gritted his teeth and shook his head. Hermione saw too and crouched down next to him.

‘Fuck, it’s one step forward, two steps back,’ he spat. 

‘Ron,’ Hermione said. 

‘Sorry, I’m trying to be positive. But it’s just one more thing, isn’t it, one more thing we’re supposed to find. And Ginny-’

‘Ginny’s fine,’ Harry said.

‘Harry, you might be bloody casual about that Forest, but there’s plenty in there that could hurt her.’

‘I know, but not with Hagrid. I was expecting worse, I worry about her all the time.’

‘I know mate, but still. And that about “the Weasleys don’t need another kid injured”, that didn’t sound …’

‘I’m sure that’s not anything new.’ Hermione said hurriedly. ‘Bill’s already scarred, George lost his ear a while ago, you’re supposed to be infected with spattergroit. I think your family would be lying pretty low at the moment. They don’t want to draw attention to you, to us. I’m sure it’s fine.’

‘Do you really think?’

‘I’m quite clever, you know.’

Hermione hugged Ron and Harry went back to his pacing. Ron’s outburst had somewhat sapped some of the elation he had initially felt, but it was coming back. They knew how to get rid of the Horcrux. Dumbledore wanted Harry to have the sword, that’s why he left it in his will, but surely he would have known they wouldn’t allow it. The real one was out there, somewhere, if only they could figure out where …

 

So now, as well as combing over everything that they knew about Voldemort’s life, they were doing the same with Dumbledore’s. 

Harry found himself horrified that he knew so little about Dumbledore. He had a brother called Aberforth, who had something to do with goats, but they didn’t know more than that. He lived in Godric’s Hollow for a while, if Rita Skeeter was to be believed. She had claimed plenty of things in that article that Harry knew couldn’t be true, but Harry was well familiar with the way she used little pieces of truth to sneak into her articles to pass the whole thing off as real. They cajoled information out of Phineas Nigellus and found out that Ginny, Neville and Luna had started Dumbledore’s Army back up. Their conversations were odd, and would often end abruptly as either Phineas Nigellus would get offended by something they said and leave (they learned not to insult Snape, Slytherins or seem to be too supportive of the students who were making it their business to cause Snape as much trouble as they could) or Hermione would shove the portrait back in the bag when he asked leading questions about where they were.

Hermione had her own mystery to solve. There was a symbol above one of the stories in  _ The Tales of Beedle the Bard _ that wasn’t a rune. When Harry was dragged into looking at it, he told her about Lovegood wearing it and Krum saying that it was Grindelwald's mark. She immediately went into research mode, looking up as much as she could in her odd portable library about Grindelwald, but there was nothing about a mark. They stole some Quibblers on the off chance that there was something in there that might hint to it, thinking that if Lovegood liked the symbol enough to wear it as a necklace, he may have used it (potentially in a wildly inaccurate way) in the Quibbler. Even though there was no hint of the symbol there, they were heartened to receive news from someone who wasn’t a cranky dead ex-headmaster who was seemed to be a bit infatuated with Severus Snape. 


	4. Chapter 4

One day, well into winter, when Harry left to scope out their surroundings, Ron followed him. 

‘It’s been a while,’ Ron said, looking a bit sheepish. 

Harry just smiled.

Before long, Harry was laughing like he hadn’t laughed since before Dumbledore died. Ron really was doing a lot to keep them positive, he’d been aware of it for a while, but he hadn’t realised how much he had missed having him as his best friend, how much he missed the two of them being each other’s favourite person. Harry felt a bit guilty for those thoughts, and he was sure that Horcrux-Malfoy would torment him for it as soon as it was his turn to wear the pouch again, but for the moment, he decided to just enjoy it. Ron was doing a great job of keeping up a steady stream of jokes despite the pouch swinging from his neck.

‘I’m sorry we’ve abandoned you a bit,’ Ron said, after they’d calmed down.

‘Are you kidding? You followed me on an impossible mission, I’m not abandoned.’

‘Yeah, but you’ve been the odd one out a bit lately, and Merlin, I felt bad enough when you and Hermione got going with the planning the other day, I can’t imagine what it’s like all the time. And I know it’s a bit different, because I’m also trying not to be jealous, you know, romantically, but still.’

‘It’s fine, Ron. Really. And please, don’t be jealous. Hermione’s like a sister to me, and clearly she’s crazy about you.’

‘Right.’

‘So I know this is in really poor taste, but so was that joke about the hag,’ Harry said, changing the subject. ‘But Horcrux-Malfoy keeps singing  _ Weasley Is Our King _ to me, and it’s so stuck in my head.’

‘Oh, go on then. Don’t tell Hermione, she practically wants an intervention for you.’

‘It’s the bloody scar stuff all over again, I can’t help what I see!’

‘I know, mate. But you were talking to Malfoy in your sleep last night.’

Harry groaned. He hated that he talked in his sleep.

‘I think it’s better than saying my sister’s name, to be honest, but …’

‘Hermione wants to intervene.’

‘Yup. Go on with the bloody song, then.’

Harry sang the first two verses and then drew a blank.

‘Shit, pass us the locket?’

‘You’ve only just taken it off,’ Ron protested.

‘I know, he’ll definitely show up. And you’re around, so he’ll probably sing.’

Ron looked at him like he’d grown another head, but handed the locket over anyway.

Malfoy didn’t sing, but he did glare at Ron for a while.

‘Weasley looks like he’s been trampled by a Hippogriff even more so than usual. Is he in love?’

Harry smirked and told Ron what he said. Ron turned a horrible shade of pink.

‘Well he sounds pretty accurate,’ he choked out, staring determinedly into the trees. 

‘Looks it too,’ Harry said. ‘When it’s dark like this he doesn’t even look transparent.’ Harry thought about passing the pouch back, but remembered how much worse Ron’s visitors were, so kept it on. 

‘Don’t lie to yourself, Potter,’ Malfoy said. ‘You’re keeping it so you can keep  _ me _ .’

Malfoy was still telling Harry that Harry was in love with him at every opportunity, but that wasn’t as often as Harry might have thought. For one, they had all been taking shorter shifts with the locket, but for another, Malfoy still maintained that surprise was a big factor in his method, so he didn’t want Harry to get used to any particular taunt. And he had plenty of others to fall back on. With access to Harry’s head, he now had even more ammunition against his parents, the Weasleys and basically anyone that Harry cared about, along with remarks about how Ron and Hermione were looking a lot worse for wear thanks to the prolonged camping trip, but Harry looked the same as usual, having already looked like he lived in a tent. 

‘So, are you in love?’ Harry asked, trying to sound teasing, but also sincere and also casual all at the same time.

‘I dunno. I’ve loved her since second year the same way I love you and I’ve fancied her since fourth year. And every day since we started, it’s like I feel more intensely, but I don’t know where the level is where you say, “okay, now I’m in love.” Does that make sense?’

‘Yeah.’

‘D’you love Ginny?’

‘I love lots of stuff about her. I miss her a lot. But I keep thinking about my parents, and I don’t reckon my dad would have broken up with mum just to keep her safe. I mean, she would have probably been in the Order anyway, and I’m Undesirable Number One, not really comparable, but …

‘I mean I let you and Hermione come along. I know you were dead set on it, but I could have snuck away, if I really wanted to. I would have been fucked without you guys, but I could have. And if you guys could come, then why not Ginny? Why did neither of us fight for it?’

They walked in silence for a while. Even Malfoy was quiet, trailing behind Harry. He probably was allowing them to speak so he had more ammunition, Harry thought bitterly.

‘She’s not of age, she’d still have the Trace,’ Ron said. 

‘Yeah, I know. And I’d be so busy trying to protect her I would be useless in a fight. And it’s not some kind of party tent. But still, neither of us really tried. We didn’t even have a conversation like the one we’re having now, you know? She didn’t ask, and I didn’t even  _ think _ she would be willing.

‘And … Don’t judge me alright? I can’t really remember what she looks like. I feel like when I picture her face, I picture that photo of her from DA. Which I left in the Room of Requirement with all the rest of Colin’s photos, rather than taking it with me and putting it in my wallet or something.’

Ron looked at Harry sadly.

‘Ah, mate. I was hoping we could be brothers one day,’ he said.

‘We already are. And there’s always Charlie, right?’

They both laughed. They had been making that joke since Charlie had written home to ask Mrs Weasley if he could bring his boyfriend to Christmas. They ended up breaking up before he had the opportunity to, but the panic that it caused for the two weeks when Mrs Weasley thought she would be having to host a vegetarian for Christmas ... She was so worried about suitable food that she forgot to worry about Charlie’s sexuality, which may have been his plan all along. 

‘You could do a lot worse than Charlie,’ Ron said.

‘It’s not him I’m worried about. I don’t know that I could live up to whatever dragon masters he’s been with.’

‘Chosen One’s nothing to sniff at,’ Ron said.

Malfoy chose that moment to start laughing in a very loud and obnoxious manner. Harry turned to watch his performance. He put his hands on his knees as if to steady himself, and then fell over entirely, laughing the whole time.

‘What are you looking at?’ Ron asked.

‘Malfoy’s literally rolling around on the ground laughing.’

‘Surprised he’d let his clothes get dirty,’ Ron said.

Malfoy stood up and turned to display his still perfect clothes. 

‘Perks of not really existing, Weaselbee.’

‘He wants you to know that the ground hasn’t affected him. Because he’s not real.’

‘I’m working up to it,’ Malfoy promised. Lately he had been trying to pick things up in between talking to Harry. Or  _ at _ Harry, might have been more accurate. 

They were nearly back at the tent.

‘Listen,’ Harry said, grabbing Ron’s arm. ‘I really appreciate today.’ 

Ron’s ears went red.

‘Do you know the one about the warlock who snuck into the garden shed?’ Ron asked. 

Harry smiled. Having five older brothers, Ron had an obscenely large catalogue of dirty jokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Ron. Even though he's not my main character here, I think he's vital to almost any Harry story. Whenever he leaves Harry, Harry falls to pieces. He was barely in my last Drarry fic, so I'm really enjoying having him there for this one.


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Harry still hadn’t taken off the locket. He generally took the first shift in the morning if he was going to have it at night, not wanting Malfoy to watch him sleep. He knew it wasn’t really Malfoy, but still. 

And yet, surprisingly, Malfoy turned respectfully to let Harry get undressed, and then lay on the floor next to his bunk in a very mild manner. 

‘What’s your plan, Malfoy?’ Harry whispered. Ron and Hermione were still awake, but he didn’t want Hermione to harass him about talking to the Horcrux again.

‘If you’re not even going to try and block me from your head, you may as well use it to talk to me,’ Malfoy said.

_ What’s your plan? _ Harry thought, as sarcastically as he could. 

‘If I told you my plan I’d be a terrible Malfoy and a terrible Horcrux.’

_ So you do have a plan. _

‘I always have a plan when it comes to you.’

Harry wished that Malfoy would stop saying things in that way. He wanted to be able to laugh it off, but he had a lovely voice, and of course he could read Harry’s mind so he had found the exact tone that made him the most uncomfortable. If uncomfortable was the right word.

‘I’ve been thinking about last year,’ Malfoy said.

_ What about last year? _

‘I think I want to forgive you.’

_ You want to forgive  _ me _? _

‘Yes, for this.’

Malfoy adjusted his prone position into a horribly familiar one, and as Harry watched, blood blossomed across his chest and then oozed and then poured. Malfoy’s body began to shake uncontrollably, his hands hovered above his wounds as if he wanted to press them back together. His face paled and his expression turned horrified, he looked surprised to see himself bleeding, and so, so vulnerable.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Malfoy’s chest knitted back together, the blood vanished and colour returned to his face. He didn’t fix his shirt, which was nearly ripped in two. Malfoy leaned up slightly so that he was only inches from Harry’s face. 

‘Pretty impressive, isn’t it?’

Well, it made an impression. Harry felt disturbed and cold. He remembered that day all too well.

‘You walked in on me crying, Potter. That’s not something I’d ever let go without a duel. And worse than that, I was properly scared that I wouldn’t be able to go through with my mission and me and my family would all die very painful deaths. I felt like my torture had begun the second the Dark Lord marked me and I couldn’t see an end to it, except to actually succeed.’

_ I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what the spell did. _

‘I know that. I can see in your head. But  _ real-Malfoy _ doesn’t. You never apologised. What kind of “good guy” are you?’

Harry felt a moment of bizarre relief. Malfoy had stopped insulting him so that he could make him feel guilty. That’s what he was up to.

 

Harry couldn’t see anyway he would be able to sleep while Malfoy listed all the slights Harry had made to him (as if Malfoy hadn’t matched him every step of the way), so he got out of bed and handed the pouch apologetically to Hermione. She and Ron looked like they had sprung apart at the sound of him getting up, but Harry ignored that. 

‘Sorry, Hermione. I can’t sleep with it tonight.’

‘That’s fine,’ she said with a forced cheerful smile.

Harry turned to go back to bed.

‘Harry,’ Hermione called to him. ‘I’m proud of you for knowing your limits.’

Harry was bizarrely proud of himself too. It wasn’t too long ago that he just wouldn’t have slept, would have listened to Malfoy torture his conscience all night and thought he deserved it. He almost felt grown up.

 

The next morning, Harry took the pouch off Hermione as she was still sleeping. Though Ron was still pretending he slept in Harry’s room, they spent most of their nights together. Harry felt a stab of guilt as he saw Hermione’s sleeping face visibly relax without the locket. He hoped she would sleep in for once. 

Harry managed to shower, make tea and read a full page of  _ Notable Inmates of Nurmengard _ before Malfoy showed up. 

‘That might be the dullest book I’ve ever encountered,’ he said. 

Harry looked up at his voice and recoiled to see that he was covered in blood again. Malfoy laughed cruelly.

‘The look on your face!’ he gasped in between laughter. When he had composed himself, he went back to his usual appearance, which Harry thought of as fifth year Malfoy. Horcrux-Malfoy was vain, and probably messing with Harry, so he chose the freshest version of Malfoy that Harry knew. He permanently looked like he had just come out from the showers, face still bright from flying, hair a bit crazy and skin ridiculously fresh looking in the tailored clothes that passed for his casual attire. Of course, the real Malfoy had never left the top two buttons of his shirt open. But the real Malfoy had never tried to get Harry to look at him like this.

‘Are you done?’ Harry asked sourly. 

‘For now. We can’t have you getting used to it.’

‘Wouldn’t want that.’

‘No. You should blow off studying and blow me instead.’ 

Harry glared at Malfoy. He hated that he could read his mind. It made it useless to pretend that Harry hadn’t noticed Malfoy’s body.

Harry glanced back at Hermione’s room to make sure they were still sleeping before hissing, ‘Just because you’re okay looking does not mean I would touch you with a ten foot broomstick. No amount of prettiness could make me forget how vile you are.’

Malfoy smirked.

‘I am  _ very _ pretty though,’ he said, putting on the voice that Harry had a love/hate relationship with. 

‘Shame you’re also non-existent,’ Harry said, turning back to his book with a satisfied smile when Malfoy glared at him. 

He hated to be reminded that he wasn’t really there. Malfoy tried to bat the book out of Harry’s hand and huffed with disappointment when his hand passed right through it. 

Malfoy stared at Harry, which was one of his newer ways of unnerving him. It made it difficult to concentrate on anything when someone was sitting that close, and even worse when it was Malfoy, who he couldn’t trust, his stupidly pretty grey eyes only inches away from whatever Harry was trying to concentrate on. 

But, as Malfoy had pointed out, Harry could get used to anything, and he was making better progress with his book than usual. He had no sooner thought that, than Malfoy lightly touched his wrist with his fingertips. 

Harry knew Malfoy didn’t exist, knew that he couldn’t touch things, but he was sure he felt light pressure where Malfoy’s fingers were. He looked at Malfoy’s face with alarm, and was horrified to see how pleased with himself he looked. 

‘I had a feeling that I’d be able to touch you sooner than anything else, seeing as I am connected to you. And I’m getting  _ stronger _ .’ Malfoy curled his long fingers all the way around Harry’s wrist. The pressure was still nowhere near that of a real person, but it was definitely there. Harry yanked his hand away, and even though Malfoy didn’t release his wrist, his real body traveled easily through Malfoy’s as if it were made of smoke. 

‘I wonder what it would feel like if I jerked you off,’ Malfoy whispered in Harry’s ear. 

Was it Harry’s imagination, or did he feel warm breath there? Harry shuddered and pushed all thoughts of Malfoy from his brain, forcefully.

‘Oh, so you  _ can _ use Occlumency? Should I take some special meaning out of the way you haven’t used it so far on me?’

‘I’m rubbish at it,’ Harry spat. ‘Though I suppose that’s to be expected, with Snape as my teacher. Probably was trying to make me all vulnerable, to make it easier for You-Know-Who to get in my mind.’

‘Probably,’ Malfoy agreed. ‘Must really hurt that you knew all along that he was evil, and no one listened to you, and now Dumbledore’s dead and he mightn’t be if you had just been able to convince him that Snape was out to get you all.’

Harry’s heart seemed to ache at that. It was certainly an achievement that the bastard could one minute have him wishing he would go back to insulting him, and the next thinking that uncomfortable flirting really wasn’t that bad. 

‘Snape probably would have turned out alright, you know. If it weren’t for your bully of a father, tormenting him all the time. I know I might have turned out better if being good hadn’t meant choosing the same side as you. What is it about Potters that makes people more inclined to hex off their bollocks than agree with them?

‘I suppose you’ll never know, eh Potter? Last person to wear that name. And you just know that you’re going to die on this ridiculous treasure hunt. Take one of the oldest wizarding families in the world, and it all ends with the last one-the last male one too, remember that you actually have the ability to pass the name on-throwing it all away to try and kill someone who’s got more than 50 years experience on him. Do you realise how bizarrely weighted the odds are out of your favour?’

Harry was starting to get used to the depressing ‘you’re definitely going to die and probably for nothing’ speech. What he was more alarmed by, was the feeling that there was warmth coming from Malfoy’s leg next to him. 

‘And of course, there’s the fact that you’re hopelessly in love with  _ me _ , a person who a: doesn’t exist, b: does  _ not _ have the requisite parts to continue the Potter name, and c: would probably rather fuck a flobberworm than you.’

‘You say that,’ Harry said, as carelessly as he could. ‘But you spend a lot of your time talking about sucking me off.’

There was a gasp from behind him and Harry turned to see Hermione with her hands over her mouth. They stayed, frighteningly still for several seconds before Hermione backed away, her eyes very wide, and escaped into the bathroom.

‘You  _ knew _ she was there!’ Harry hissed at Malfoy.

‘I’m sorry, did I ever give you the impression that I would do  _ anything _ to convenience you?’

‘Morning, Harry,’ Ron said sheepishly coming out of Hermione’s room. ‘Any way we can pretend I was in my bed when you woke up?’

‘I am quite comfortable pretending none of this,’ Harry gestured vaguely at Ron, ‘is going on.’

Ron sat heavily on the couch next to Harry, and stole a mouthful of his tea. 

‘Some friends might want to chat about it all,’ Ron said. ‘Maybe offer congratulations.’

‘You say a word of what you get up to with Hermione and I will break my silence on me and Ginny, I swear, Ron.’ Harry tried to look stern, but Ron’s purple face was making that rather difficult. ‘Can we just agree to be normal blokes, who might occasionally say “have you ever done --,” and pretend like we’re asking in general, not talking about, whoever?’

Hermione came out of the bathroom then and turned very red when she met Harry’s eyes. She hurried to the kitchen without saying a word.

‘What’s going on there?’ Ron asked. ‘Did she come out starkers?’

‘Wow. No.’ Harry scrunched up his face, trying very hard not to picture that. ‘I was, uh, talking to Malfoy when she came out. Might have said something a bit …’

‘Something that makes her blush like that?’

‘Well, Malfoy’ll say anything to get under my skin, right?’

Ron nodded uncertainly. 

‘Nope. I really don’t want to say any of this,’ Harry realised. 

Hermione came back with three cups of tea, effectively saving Harry from figuring out how to say anything to Ron. For all of two seconds. 

‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’m going to put aside the fact that I  _ keep telling you _ not to speak to the Horcrux for about five minutes.’ She gave Harry a look so that he knew that he would indeed be getting a lecture about that as soon as she had dealt with the more important subject. ‘Now, explain to me why the Horcrux keeps threatening you with oral sex.’

Ron spluttered into his tea and Harry helpfully thumped him on the back to avoid meeting Hermione’s sharp gaze. When Ron had recovered, she was still looking at him, her eyebrow raised expectantly. Harry didn’t think she’d moved an inch while he had stalled.

‘He can read my mind,’ Harry said helplessly. ‘I’ve always thought he looks alright, but it’s basically my worst nightmare that  _ he _ would know that, so of course he’s picking up on that and using it against me.’

‘When you say “always”-’ Ron said. 

‘Harry, you cannot speak to the Horcrux!’ Hermione said.

‘It just feels less strange to have a conversation out loud, rather than him just responding to every thought I have,’ Harry said sulkily.

‘You need to try and block it out!’

‘I was always rubbish at Occlumency,’ Harry said. ‘Besides, what harm is it really doing?’

‘What harm is it doing? Ron, why are you sitting on that side of the couch?’

Ron was sitting on the other side of Malfoy, which looked fairly normal to Harry, but of course didn’t make sense for someone who couldn’t see him.

‘I dunno, does it matter?’ he said. 

‘It does if you’re sitting there because you can sense that someone is already sitting next to Harry!’

Ron looked at the seat between him and Harry, his brow furrowed with concentration. 

‘Harry, you’ve been giving the Horcrux your secrets, and I think it’s getting stronger. I don’t think you should wear it any longer.’

‘That’s not fair on you and Ron,’ Harry said quietly. 

‘Actually, I would rather think that helping the Horcrux grow in power is what is not fair to me and Ron,’ Hermione said.

Harry winced. Hermione reached over and put her hand on his knee. 

‘Take the locket off, put it on the coffee table,’ she said gently. 

Harry reached for the pouch, but it turned heavy in his hand and refused to be moved. He looked at Malfoy with alarm, and saw that he was smiling with his head slightly on the side. It was a lot more frightening than Malfoy’s usual smirk. It looked rather a lot like the expression Harry had seen on Tom Riddle in the Pensieve. 

‘I can’t,’ Harry said to Hermione desperately. ‘You try.’

Hermione frowned. As her fingers touched the pouch, she flinched back as if burnt. Ron touched it as well and also recoiled. 

‘Shit,’ Hermione said under her breath. 

Harry couldn’t have put it better himself. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to fortify_countrye for the betas from here on out. xx

Just before Christmas, they Apparated into a gang of Snatchers and had to duel their way out. Malfoy was a silent fixture, watching the whole thing. They freed the old man they had with them. He didn’t seem to be able to speak English, but he recognised Harry and got very excited. In the end, they left him in a bit of a panic because he was speaking so loudly. Harry thought he was probably a bit deaf. Ron thought he would probably be caught again with a voice like that. 

Malfoy agreed. Malfoy had toned down his hatred of Ron and Hermione rather a lot since he had become a permanent fixture around Harry’s neck. Harry attempted to tease Malfoy about it after Ron and Hermione went to bed one night.

‘Of course, the real me would never suck up to your friends because the real me doesn’t have any interest in … something clever about sucking you,’ Malfoy told him, yawning theatrically. 

‘You’re not real, how can you possibly be tired,’ Harry said, stifling his own yawn. He did  _ not _ want to catch yawns from Malfoy. That felt like he was getting a bit too close. 

‘I’m tired because you’re tired, you dope. Besides, you like me tired, don’t you?’ Malfoy leaned close and stretched sleepily into Harry. ‘I’m not as fierce like this, I don’t look so  _ Malfoy _ like this. Come on, Potter, let’s see if you can fuck a ghost, I won’t mind.’

Harry got up and stomped to bed.

‘Eager to get under the sheets, are you?’ Malfoy teased. He stroked Harry’s forehead and managed to move a few wisps of hair that were sticking out. ‘I would just love to do something about your hair,’ he murmured in the voice Harry tried not to think of as his sex-voice. ‘I can’t wait to be able to run my hands through it. No one else appreciates it like I do. Those Muggles were idiots trying to cut it off.’

‘I’m  _ tired _ , Malfoy,’ Harry said.

Malfoy smiled at him and tried to stroke his hair one more time before settling on the floor next to him. He gave Harry some boundaries. He let him sleep.

 

It was these boundaries that made Harry wait until he was bone tired to go to his bed. 

When Harry was tired enough, Malfoy’s voice didn’t do anything to him. When he was around Ron and Hermione, he could distract himself. When Harry was alone, in bed, Malfoy was harder to resist.

He always let Harry shower and get changed without forcing himself on him, which somewhat surprised Harry. It wasn’t like Harry could take the pouch off, even if Malfoy did step over a line. And he had no problem making Harry feel uncomfortable, or even depressed. He always seemed to know when Harry was just putting his shirt on, and would turn around and watch then, looking at Harry’s skin being covered up in a hungry way.

The one time he had still had some energy, Malfoy didn’t stop, and Harry couldn’t convince him that he wanted him to.

‘I don’t know how I kept my hands off you at school,’ Malfoy said as Harry got into bed. Even when Harry took his glasses off, Malfoy looked clear as anything. He supposed it was because he wasn’t really there, so there was nothing to fail to see.

Malfoy crouched near Harry’s head and traced his ghostly fingers down Harry’s jaw. 

‘Sorry,’ he said, and he actually sounded a bit contrite. ‘Can’t resist.’

And seeing Malfoy struggle to sit back slightly, watching his eyes flick down to Harry’s mouth and lick his lips uncertainly, Harry found himself thinking,  _ don’t resist _ , instead of his usual, more appropriate thoughts.

Malfoy smiled shyly and reached out, touching Harry’s neck in a way that wasn’t quite ticklish, slipping just barely under the collar of his t-shirt.

And then his hand was gone again and Malfoy was groaning with frustration. 

‘I want to so fucking much,’ he said. ‘I want to find out what I can do to you. I want to see if I can make you come from my words alone.’

Harry closed his eyes, knowing that he could, not finding the strength to say no, to hate himself for wanting it.

‘I can’t though, can I? I’m not real, no matter what I’m feeling, no matter that you’re stuck with me, probably forever.’ Malfoy leaned his head onto Harry’s mattress and sighed, not theatrically like usual. He sounded miserable. ‘I am going to stop thinking about my non-existence,’ he said. ‘It’s not like you can do anything. I’m going to just go back to … I dunno, singing at you or something.’

Harry found himself in the ridiculous position of wanting to comfort Malfoy. So he did the only thing left to him, and cleared his mind, working through exercises that he had never really given a chance. 

 

After the run in with the Snatchers, they decided to start keeping watch outside the tent. More and more people were doing as they were-trying to hide off the beaten path-which meant that Snatchers were getting more common in places that should have been safe. 

Though Ron and Hermione had taken over all of Harry’s other duties in order to let Harry focus on his Occlumency, Harry convinced them to let him do his part in guarding them. They reluctantly agreed; it was easier to split the shifts between the three of them and Harry was counting on his exhaustion to keep Malfoy out of his dreams anyway. 

Malfoy was harder to tune out when Harry was on watch. He’d stopped the tormenting almost entirely. Sometimes, he spat out a nasty comment, but for the most part, he tried to keep to himself, like he was scared of Harry getting rid of him. But on night watches, he kept Harry company.

He invented commentaries for their old Quidditch matches, using that biting wit, but only to make Harry laugh (quietly, don’t let Granger hear you!), only to keep him awake. He asked Harry to read out loud and made jokes or asked questions whenever Harry’s words began to slur. He sat with Harry and pointed out stars, always himself first, and then others from the Black family tree that Harry had only looked at once or twice. Malfoy made up stories about his relatives, about the stars they were named for. He didn’t blame Harry for the way he didn’t know the real stories. Harry couldn’t remember ever paying as much attention in Astronomy classes as he did when Malfoy was making up stories about the stars and planets. 

One night, he was sitting side by side with Malfoy, battling with the urge to hold Malfoy’s hand and feeling quite pathetic about it (especially as the prick knew what he was thinking but was just sitting there with a calm expression on his face). Everything was normal, until he saw a strange light from the forest. He and Malfoy were on their feet, wands drawn in unison. Harry shouted back to Ron and Hermione, realising when he turned back to the light that he had stepped protectively in front of Malfoy at some point. The light was closer now, and then he saw what it was: a silvery doe delicately walking towards him. The doe stared at him for a long moment before turning and leading him back the way she had come. Harry never even considered not following her.

She led him to a small frozen pool and dissolved. Harry froze, suddenly aware of the distance he had crossed.

‘Lumos,’ he said, and he heard Malfoy say the same behind him. Harry had forgotten about him for the first time in a while. He turned and saw Malfoy looking at his ineffective wand in disgust. Harry wrenched his attention back to the pool. It was the only thing in the clearing, it had to be the reason he was there.

He saw a glint of silver and dropped to his knees, aiming his wand lower, trying to see better. He and Malfoy gasped at the same time. The sword of Gryffindor was at the bottom of the forest pool.

Harry sat up as tall as he could on his knees, glaring at the trees. He angled his wand, trying to force the light to reach further, hoping it would reflect off some enemy’s eyes or clothes. He saw nothing. 

‘ _ Accio sword _ ,’ he whispered.

Nothing happened. Of course. Why put it in a pool if it could be Summoned? Why not hand it to him?

‘Harry, I don’t like this,’ Malfoy said.

Harry gave Malfoy a wild grin. He could hear Ron and Hermione calling his name in the distance. The sword was for him, he had to get it by himself. He had to get it before they arrived. 

‘Diffindo,’ he said.

‘Harry, no, I’m serious.’

Malfoy stepped between Harry and the pool. Harry glanced over his shoulder and thought he saw wandlight approaching him. It was now or never. He didn’t even have time to undress. 

Harry leapt through Malfoy, pleased that he hadn’t chosen that moment to gain a corporeal body, and into the pool. 

The moment he touched the hilt, he felt pressure building around his neck. He scrabbled at the string of his Mokeskin pouch which was now biting, would surely cut into his neck any moment. He thrashed in the water, trying to gain purchase. The pressure on his lungs began to envelop his chest and then he was out of the lake and still drowning, the pressure still there. 

Through his panic, he felt a new, sharper pain and then he could breathe. He gasped without thought, coughing and retching and struggling for what seemed like an age. Finally, he managed to fall to one side and see who had saved him. Ron had pulled him free and cut the pouch from his neck. .

‘Are you mental?’ Ron asked when Harry seemed unlikely to die.

Harry choked out a laugh.

‘Moral-fibre,’ Harry managed. His throat was screaming with pain.

There was a groan from behind Ron and Harry noticed Hermione for the first time. She reached for the bag and pulled the locket free, holding it with the very tips of her fingers.

‘I still think we need to open it,’ Hermione said, breaking the tense silence.

‘Alright,’ said Harry. He held out his hand and Hermione reluctantly passed it to him. ‘Ron, I’m going to open it. You stab it.’

‘Me?’

‘Mate, you got the sword. It has to be you. That’s how this works.’

Harry found a flat rock and pressed the Horcrux to it.

‘Harry, please,’ Malfoy said, his voice quiet and broken.

Harry shook his head violently and applied the strongest Occlumency walls he’d ever used. Malfoy vanished into smoke.

‘On three,’ Harry told Ron.

Hermione drew her wand and nodded when Harry met her eyes.

‘One … two … three ...  _ open _ ,’

The locket opened and a very solid looking Malfoy blossomed from the panes of glass until it was life sized.

‘You won’t kill me, Harry,’ he said, his voice soft and low. 

Harry held the locket open, but was helpless to break eye contact. Malfoy crouched low and stroked Harry’s cheek. 

‘I didn’t ask for any of this,’ Malfoy said, his eyes wide and silvery in the dark. ‘You have to protect me. You failed to protect me before, but you can still save me now. Fuck the rest of the world, just save me.’

‘Ron,’ Harry gasped. ‘Do it!’

Harry felt his eyes prick as Malfoy leaned in and kissed him softly. He was almost solid now. His lips felt real. Harry suddenly wanted to take it back, to stop Ron, but Malfoy recoiled from their kiss and screamed and Harry just squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened them, Malfoy was gone and there was just a broken locket. Harry jumped when Ron clasped him on the shoulder, and then he leaned into his friend, unable to care that he was crying. Hermione crouched on his other side and held his hand and the three of them stayed there, quiet in the snow, until Harry’s shivers got too much to bear.

‘Oh, sorry, Harry, I should have thought,’ Hermione said softly. She murmured something and his clothes were warm and dry. Ron groaned in pleasure next to him, so she must have done the same for him. Ron pulled Harry up to standing and put his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

‘He got in my head,’ Harry said quietly as they walked back to the tent.

‘There is no shame in that,’ Ron said firmly.

‘I think there might be,’ Harry said.

‘No,’ Hermione said. ‘Ron’s right, it could have been any of us. You didn’t think badly of Ginny or Dumbledore when they got on the bad side of one of these, did you?’

‘That’s different,’ Harry said, but he knew it wasn’t, not really.

‘Harry, it’s okay to miss him.’ Hermione had consistently only referred to Horcrux-Malfoy as ‘the Horcrux’ or ‘it’ and Harry knew that she meant it when she said that, because she was showing him that while he had been ‘it’ to her, he’d been ‘he’ to Harry.

‘Not sure it is, really,’ Harry said, but he leaned a bit more into Hermione as they walked. They were all clinging to one another so tightly they looked like they were in some bizarre three-legged race, but with three people.  _ Four-legged race _ , Harry thought.

‘You can’t help who you love,’ Ron said, squeezing Harry’s shoulder. 

‘He wasn’t even real,’ Harry whispered, not bothering to correct Ron. It might not have been love, but it had been something, and they might as well call it love rather than ‘like-like’ or something equally stupid. 

‘Yeah, well that just means you can’t drunk Floo him, so all-in-all, it might be easier to get over.’

‘We’re here for you, Harry,’ Hermione said.

‘And we got the sword!’ Ron said, brandishing the thing about in a slightly unnerving way. 

‘We can get rid of them all now,’ Hermione said.

‘I didn’t think we were ever going to get rid of that thing,’ Harry said, his mouth starting to smile.

‘It seemed too big for us, sometimes,’ Hermione agreed.

‘Three down!’ Ron crowed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I literally just made Horcrux Malfoy a permanent thing last chapter, and have already taken him away, and I'm sorry because I really like him as a character, but it was the only way I could think to stop Hermione from taking on the locket 100% of the time. And the plot must continue! Thanks for reading and for the lovely comments, everyone! Every time I get an email from AO3, I get the nicest feeling in my belly. <3


	7. Chapter 7

Flushed with success from destroying their first Horcrux on their own, Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to celebrate. They Apparated to a wizarding village and Ron did some shopping under Polyjuice and they had proper food for the first time in weeks, having found it difficult to justify using their limited Polyjuice on shopping when they might still need it for something mission related. Hermione was getting better at cooking, learning when to use spells on the ancient stovetop in the tent and when to rely on her Muggle skills. Ron had even bought champagne, and they all showered and dressed in their nicest clothes for the dinner. It was amazing how little it took to make them all feel human again. 

‘To Ron!’ Hermione toasted and Harry joined in enthusiastically. Ron had gotten rid of that Horcrux with surprising skill. Hermione had confessed quietly to Harry that she had been sure that he would get Harry’s fingers along with the locket and Harry was suddenly very happy that he had been focussed on other things. Now that he wasn’t wearing the locket, it was hard to mope. He felt like his capacity for joy had been capped for months, and now he was free. 

Even though he kept looking around for Malfoy.

‘To Godric Gryffindor!’ Ron toasted next, which was also worthy of enthusiasm. Their toasts got progressively less sensible. Harry toasted goblins, for their craftsmanship, Ron toasted Hermione, Hermione toasted Harry, Ron toasted ‘moral fibre’ (just when Harry had thought he was finally rid of that joke), Harry toasted Dumbledore, Ron toasted toast, Hermione toasted champagne and Harry toasted Xenophilius Lovegood, because he suddenly wanted to say ‘Xenophilius’.

‘We really should go see him,’ Hermione said after this outburst. 

‘I agree,’ Harry said happily. ‘He can get the wrackspurts on our side!’

‘And the crumple-horned snorkacks!’ Ron said.

‘I meant about the symbol he was wearing at Bill’s wedding,’ Hermione said, though she giggled in a way she might not have before Harry had applied a second refilling charm on the champagne. 

‘Hermione is the clever one,’ Ron said, nodding sagely. ‘If she says we need to see Loony and her dad, we need to do that.’

‘What does Xenophilius mean?’ Harry wondered. 

‘Xeno means alien, philius means love. Love for aliens? Or for all people, maybe?’

‘People aren’t aliens, Hermione,’ Harry pointed out.

‘Sometimes people call foreigners aliens,’ she said.

‘What does Draco mean?’ Harry said, trying to sound casual.

‘It’s latin for dragon,’ Hermione said, sounding matter-of-fact and not at all pitying, which made Harry want to kiss her. ‘It’s also a constellation.’

‘My Hermione is so wise,’ Ron said. ‘Please don’t leave me just because I’m not wise.’

‘I won’t,’ she promised. Then she whispered something in Ron’s ear and Harry very studiously did  _ not _ hear the word ‘cock’. They all decided they were quite tired and should go to bed shortly after that, and Harry cast about a hundred silencing spells on his bunk. Ron didn’t even pretend to go to his room. Harry dreamed of stars that turned into dragons and flew around the night sky.

 

When Harry woke up the next morning, Ron was back in his own bed, snoring loudly. Hermione was already awake, looking quite chipper considering Harry thought she must also have a champagne headache. 

When she saw Harry was awake, she brought him a cup of tea. ‘We’re going to go see Lovegood today,’ she pronounced. ‘Ron knows roughly where he lives and we’re going to find out what this symbol means.’

‘Is that not risky?’ Harry asked. ‘I’m Undesirable Number One,’ he reminded her.

‘Well, yes, but the Quibbler has been in support of you this whole time, remember? And it’s the holidays, Luna will be home. She’ll protect us. 

There wasn’t much to say to that. Harry trusted Luna.

‘We did get rid of a Horcrux day-before-yesterday,’ Harry said. ‘Are we not rushing into this?’

‘The Christmas holidays will be over soon, I’d rather go while Luna is there,’ Hermione said. She stood up and poked at Ron, who woke with a fair bit of grumbling. 

 

_ The next section is basically the same as from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, so I won’t write it. For those who need a refresher, Lovegood tells the trio about the Deathly Hallows as he waits for Death Eaters to come, hoping that they will return Luna to him if he gives them Harry. They find out that Harry’s Cloak is the one from the story, deduce that the Snitch holds the Stone and that Voldemort is after the Wand. In my version, they don’t know about Potterwatch, Ron having never left, and also don’t know Voldemort’s name is taboo. Instead of waiting months and then accidentally saying the name, Harry now says it when he realises that Voldemort is after the Elder Wand, after escaping the Death Eaters when they are discussing it back in the tent. Hermione applies the Stinging Hex to Harry’s face when the Sneakoscope lights up, the Snatchers discover them anyway and take them to Malfoy Manor. Draco is home for Christmas, not Easter, because that’s when I’m setting the story. Draco refuses to identify any of them outright and Bellatrix spots the sword. Bellatrix tortures Hermione and Griphook lies for them that it is a fake. Wormtail’s hand kills him. Voldemort is summoned, Dobby drops the chandelier, Harry steals the wands from Malfoy and they escape, Dobby dies. _

 

Through his grief at Dobby’s death, Harry felt Voldemort’s fury. His scar burnt worse than it had in a while as Voldemort punished those at the Manor for letting Harry escape. He found himself able to shut it out with his newfound skill at Occlumency, finding that grief was also helpful. Dumbledore probably would have said it was love. But every now and again he couldn’t help but peek. He wanted to be glad that Death Eaters were being hurt and he was safe.  _ You don’t even know Malfoy _ , Harry reminded himself.  _ Your Malfoy was never real _ . He had looked so thin and scared at the Manor though. Maybe he truly hadn’t recognised Harry, but Hermione and Ron looked practically the same as they always did, if a bit rugged from camping. Harry couldn’t pretend Malfoy had handed them over, or even attempted to. Lucius might have been ecstatic at the idea, but Malfoy was very reluctant. 

And now he was being tortured. 

Of course, Bellatrix was getting the brunt of it, having been the one to Summon Voldemort in the first place. She was accepting it with unnerving reverence. He heard Voldemort cast Crucio, and she screamed, but if he hadn’t known better, he might have thought they were screams of pleasure. Eventually, she lost consciousness, and Voldemort stepped over her. Draco was hidden behind Lucius and Narcissa, despite being taller than both of them. They were all cursed, though not to the same extent as Bellatrix, and then forced into their own dungeons. Greyback was set to watch and Voldemort had a blast of satisfaction as he took in the frightened faces of his most loyal servants, reduced to this.

Harry was moved by how accepting everyone was by his insistence that he bury Dobby without magic, and then by the quiet and respectful funeral. He saw that Voldemort had moved on, so he closed his mind once more. Harry took Ron and Hermione aside.

‘You were so brave and clever,’ Harry told Hermione.

She smiled weakly.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, the chandelier barely got me.’ Harry tried not to think about the cuts it had made in Malfoy’s face.

‘Yes, but it can’t have been easy. Seeing the real Malfoy.’ Of course she was going to push it. 

‘I’m fine.’ 

Hermione looked like she wanted to say more, but Ron put his hand on her arm and she fell silent. 

‘I think there’s a Horcrux in the Lestrange vault,’ Harry said.

‘Why?’ Ron asked, his voice tense. 

‘Because  _ she _ was too worked up about the sword. And …’ It was hard to explain to Ron what it was like to come into the wizarding world all of a sudden, the awe of it. ‘I don’t know if Voldemort even had his own vault. If he did, it wouldn’t have been one like the Lestrange one. And you walk into Diagon Alley and you see Gringotts at the top there … He would have seen having one of those vaults as being a ‘true’ wizard. What he was entitled to.’

Hermione nodded slowly. ‘So what do we do?’ she asked.

‘We ask Griphook to help us break in. I want to talk to Ollivander as well. Actually, we might as well speak to him first, I’ll just make sure Bill can keep them here.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Ron said. ‘I can’t be still right now.’

Ron left for the cottage and Hermione took one of Harry’s hands in her own.

‘I’m really sorry you had to go through that,’ Harry said. 

‘Me too.’

‘Voldemort Crucio’d her until she passed out for losing me. I know that doesn’t make it better.’

‘No.’

They held hands in silence for a while. They could hear Bill raising his voice from inside the house and then quiet as Ron must have replied. Ron had grown up a lot since they left Hogwarts.

‘Did you see anything else?’ Hermione asked eventually.

‘He locked them all up,’ Harry said.

‘Malfoy-Draco, that is-looked pretty awful.’

‘Not as bad as you,’ Harry said, looking at their hands. He didn’t want to talk about Malfoy when there were more important things going on.

‘Gee, thanks, Harry!’ Hermione said. 

‘I didn’t mean-’

‘I know. Thought it would lighten the mood.’

‘He didn’t sell us out,’ Harry said.

‘No.’

‘I don’t know how much I think I know about him is real, Hermione.’

‘Tell me.’

Harry hadn’t told Hermione very much about the conversations he had had with Horcrux-Malfoy. She hadn’t approved. Now, he felt like he was leaking them.

‘He said he would have gone to Dumbledore for help last year if he knew Vol- You Know Who wouldn’t find out. He isn’t a murderer. He said he might have gone anyway, but he didn’t want to be on the same side as me.’

‘That sounds like something designed to make you feel guilty,’ Hermione pointed out.

‘Yeah. But it could have some truth, couldn’t it? Like, I haven’t been in a situation like this, but if I was on fire, I don’t reckon Malfoy would piss on me to put it out. And I certainly would rather go up in flames than  _ ask _ him to.’

‘Way to extend a metaphor, Harry.’

‘Oh, come on. I mean, I wouldn’t ask him for help either. Before, anyway ...’

Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand, so he continued.

‘He’s been forced into his life. I get that. I feel like I was born to fight this fight. I can’t help being Harry Potter, but he can’t help being Draco Malfoy either.’

Hermione nodded.

‘And-’ Harry looked around to make sure that they were still alone, ‘-he was  _ funny _ , you know. I was feeling a bit lonely, with you and Ron …’

‘Sorry,’ Hermione whispered.

‘No, it’s good, about bloody time … but it was nice to talk to someone and he-’ Harry broke off. ‘He was trying to make me love him, I think. Because he knew I was making him stronger.’

‘How?’

‘How’d he make me love him?’

Hermione nodded.

‘Well, he never pushed me, not where it counted. And he was funny and clever and … he’s really pretty. Not yesterday, but, oh well, kind of yesterday, but … I mean you saw him when I opened the Horcrux.’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look like that,’ Hermione said. 

‘He feels like flying,’ Harry said quietly.

‘Oh, Harry …’

‘I want to go back and save him. That’s insane, isn’t it?’

‘It’s not insane to want it. It might be to actually do it.’

Harry laughed sadly. Hermione had sounded so cautious, as if she was worried that if she got her words wrong that Harry would rush off.

Harry stood up and pulled Hermione to her feet, frowning when she winced. Bill and Fleur had done their best to heal her, but it would take time before she was 100% again. 

‘It’s important to talk about the less important stuff sometimes, Harry,’ she said. ‘Otherwise you’ll explode.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Thanks for being … you know …’

‘Badgery?’ Hermione asked.

‘Yep.’

They walked back to the cottage in silence. Harry didn’t tell her that it wasn’t the first time he’d seen Draco being tortured. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to remember Voldemort breaking him, making him torture others. It wasn’t enough that Voldemort had split his own soul, he was working on destroying everyone’s around him as well.

Harry thought he probably would have hated that no matter who the victim was. But no matter what he told Hermione, Horcrux Malfoy and real Malfoy were the same in Harry’s mind. There was  _ a _ Malfoy out there, and Harry’s heart ached with missing him.


	8. Chapter 8

They ended up staying at Shell Cottage for over a month, planning with Griphook how to break into Gringotts. Harry was trying not to be obsessed with Draco’s wand, which he had accidentally stolen along with the others. It worked almost as well as his own, despite none of the other ones feeling nice at all. Harry was probably reading far too much into it. Real Malfoy was not the same as Horcrux Malfoy, he told himself for the millionth time. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he could just get through the war, he’d be able to give Malfoy his wand back and then …

And then nothing, probably. But he couldn’t help hoping. Hoping that they could start fresh and Harry could get to know the real Malfoy just as well as he’d known the ugly version in his head. Beautiful on the outside, sure, but hurtful and vain and deliberately messing with Harry all added up to a pretty unattractive personality. Surely a real person would have more depth than the one from his imagination? 

When Harry mentioned this to Hermione, she worried that Harry was trying to minimise the feelings he had felt for the Horcrux by transferring them to real Malfoy because  _ ‘obviously it isn’t nice to admit you had feelings for a sentient locket’ _ . Harry decided not to talk about it anymore, . He didn’t like being analysed like that.

They planned the Gringotts mission to pieces. When they were not cramped in Griphook’s room, Harry read  _ The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore _ , just because Bill had it and because he still felt like he didn’t know his old mentor very well. Not that Rita Skeeter was the best source. He was feeling pretty vulnerable while reading it, but he couldn’t seem to stop. 

One day, he came across a picture of someone who he had seen over and over through his visions of what Voldemort was thinking, and was shocked to see it was Grindelwald. His scar ached, and he was filled with an awful sense of glee—Voldemort had seen it too. And worse, had learned it from Harry. 

Harry told Hermione and Ron reluctantly, and they paled. Hermione didn’t even tell him to get better with Occlumency. Harry thought she probably realised that if Voldemort wanted to get into Harry’s brain, thinking of a brick wall probably wasn’t going to help much. And she knew how hard Harry had been working at it. 

Still, it got Harry thinking. If Voldemort was after the Elder Wand and had been obsessing over this thief, wouldn’t it make sense if Grindelwald had the Elder Wand? After all, they already knew that Dumbledore used the Hallows symbol to sign his name. And then Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, so his wand … 

Ollivander came back to Shell Cottage to speak with Harry, and they talked about wandlore for a long time. Ron and Hermione left him to it. It was a rare thing, but Harry instinctively understood much of what they discussed, even when Hermione got frustrated with the lack of logic and Ron just looked bemused. Dumbledore had taught Harry that some actions have consequences, that magic is imprecise and accidental as often as it is targeted. That evening, after Ollivander left, Harry broke the news to them.

‘You-Know-Who has the wand.’

‘What?’ Ron said.

‘But Dumbledore-’ said Hermione.

‘He dug up his grave. Wouldn’t have been hard. Snape wasn’t going to stop him.’

‘You knew he was going to go for it,’ said Ron. 

‘You couldn’t have stopped him,’ said Hermione, glaring at Ron, even though he hadn’t sounded particularly accusatory. ‘You couldn’t have dug up Dumbledore’s grave. That’s awful.’

Harry nodded. 

 

They couldn’t delay much longer. It felt like every time they did something, it went wrong, but that wasn’t going to change if they hung around for another six months. All that would change would be that more people would die, waiting for them to get on with their job. They left at dawn, refusing to tell Bill and Fleur where they were going.

 

_ Gringotts scene remains the same. Griphook steals the sword, they fly out on a dragon, end up in Hogsmeade with Aberforth Dumbledore. Voldemort freaks out about the Horcruxes and reveals that one is at Hogwarts (meaning that there is only the diadem there and the snake as far as the trio are aware. There is also Harry).They sneak into the castle, Neville summons DA and more, Harry goes with Luna to Ravenclaw to see the diadem. Snape flees, the two armies assemble. Harry speaks with the Grey Lady and discovers the truth about the diadem. Ron and Hermione get Basilisk fangs and Hermione destroys the cup. _

 

‘It’s got to be around here somewhere,’ Harry said, not for the first time. He felt like the room had gotten bigger and more complex since he had last seen it. Maybe it had. Maybe more students than usual had needed to hide contraband this year. 

‘Looking for something?’ a familiar cool voice asked.

Harry didn’t react, but kept wandering down the aisle. 

‘Harry,’ Hermione said, at the same time as Malfoy said, ‘Well, that went better in my head.’

Harry frowned and turned back to Hermione. She and Ron had their wands drawn and were pointing them at Malfoy. He had his arms crossed casually, but held a wand too and Crabbe and Goyle behind him were in defensive stances. 

‘Oh,’ Harry said, feeling a bit ridiculous. He had gotten far too used to ignoring Malfoy over the past months. He hadn’t registered that the voice had come from the real thing. 

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. 

‘Why aren’t you lot in the dungeons with the rest of the Slytherins?’ Harry asked, hoping they would let his blase attitude go. 

Malfoy looked nervously back at Crabbe and Goyle.

‘What are you grinning about, Potter?’ he asked. He took a step backwards, nearly colliding with Goyle. 

Harry tried to school his features into a more appropriate expression for being held up trying to save the world. Angry, was probably more like it. Maybe frustrated. Definitely not happy.  _ Definitely _ not smitten.

‘I reckon the Dark Lord would be pretty happy if we brought him their dead bodies, what do you think, Goyle?’ Crabbe asked. Harry ignored him. Malfoy didn’t  _ look _ like he was close to death. And he was at school, that had to be better than in his own family dungeons. He was a bit too thin, a bit too pale. Quite worried-looking, but Harry was pretty sure that was because of him. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling. 

‘He’s got us in a trap or something,’ Malfoy said. ‘Try and make it back to the door.’

‘We don’t have to listen to you anymore,  _ Malfoy _ ,’ Goyle said. 

‘ _ You don’t have to, but you should! _ ’ Malfoy hissed. ‘Look at him!’

There was silence as the six of them stared at one another. Ron and Hermione still had their wands raised, aimed at Crabbe and Goyle respectively, but they were also smiling. Of course they would go along with it. They were his best friends.

Harry felt positively close to laughter. 

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle slowly backed away, and Harry finally did laugh. Ron and Hermione joined in a moment later, and their laughter bounced creepily off the walls. Ron slapped Harry on the back as they turned back to find the diadem. 

‘You just fluke your way out of every situation, don’t you?’ he said, still chortling. 

‘Yup,’ Harry said happily.

‘That one will be fun to explain when the dust settles,’ Hermione said ironically. They found the diadem and Ron passed Harry a fang. Harry didn’t hesitate before stabbing it. 

‘You really think they’ll want to know?’ Ron asked.

‘Draco might, if Harry gets his shit together.’

That sobered Harry and Ron up for a moment while they thought. And then Ron started laughing again, evidently delighted by that thought. They hurried out of the room and their faces fell. The battle had started.


	9. Chapter 9

_ The Battle is the same. The same people died as before, with the exception of Crabbe, who never cast the fiendfyre. When they save Draco from a Death Eater, Ron does not punch Draco, but still comments that they saved his life. Voldemort kills Snape in an attempt to gain proper ownership of the Elder Wand. Harry views Snape’s memories. Harry dies and then chooses to return. Narcissa lies for him, for Draco. Neville kills Nagini, Molly kills Bellatrix. Harry and Voldemort confront one another, and Harry kills Voldemort by deflecting the killing curse with a disarming charm. Harry returns the Elder Wand to Dumbledore. We’re now beyond the events of the book and completely ignoring the epilogue. What epilogue? _

 

Harry woke up to the sun streaming through the window of the Gryffindor dormitory. He wasn’t entirely sure that the bed he slept in still belonged to him, because he had never been clear on how the castle organised that sort of thing, but if he had stolen someone else’s bed, they had let him have it. He imagined that people would let him get away with rather a lot now.

It was bitterly cold, but clear and sunny. The kind of day that had Harry itching for his broom after having to put up with rain and snow for weeks. Harry found Ron sleeping in the bed next to him, with Hermione curled into his side. The beaded bag was on the night stand, so Harry Summoned some fresh clothes and went to the bathroom for a shower. By the time he had finished, he felt like a new person. He supposed he was.

Ron and Hermione came out of the bathroom as Harry had just been given a steaming mug of tea by Kreacher. He saw them and immediately Disapparated with a crack and was back a moment later with two more huge mugs. 

‘Aw, Kreacher, you’re a legend,’ Ron moaned. 

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said, sipping gratefully.

Harry could see that Kreacher had remembered that Hermione took hers black and could smell Ron’s sugar from where he was. There was something very homey about being given the perfect cup of tea. They sat on their beds, drinking quietly. 

‘What now?’ Hermione asked eventually.

‘Clean up,’ Ron said glumly. ‘Lots of cleaning and funerals and the Ministry’ll probably stick their noses in.’

‘Right,’ Hermione said. ‘I suppose we best get our stories straight, then.’

‘What do you mean?’ Harry asked.

‘Well, does the world need to know about the Deathly Hallows, for example? Or you dying? Or the Horcruxes, even, I hate to think that we might accidentally inspire some new dark wizard.’

 

So they did. And then they went to the Great Hall for breakfast, not caring that it was closer to lunch, the holes in the walls and rubble ruining the feelings of nostalgia that Harry almost had, walking from Gryffindor tower with his two best friends. 

Harry was relieved to find that someone had moved all the bodies. He wondered if he should have helped with that and then that little voice in his head that sounded like Hermione told him he had probably done enough. 

Bizarrely, someone had set up the house tables and the breakfast looked almost normal. Harry noticed that the Weasleys were all sitting at the Gryffindor table and that everyone else seemed to be sitting at the tables they had once been Sorted into as well. Harry decided not to smile and wave to Malfoy, given that he had nearly scared him to death with that smile not that long ago. Harry tapped his foot thoughtfully as he ate breakfast. Everyone seemed too tired to bother him, which suited him fine. 

By the time he had finished eating, the hall was fairly full. McGonagall stood where the podium had once been and everyone turned to look at her. 

‘The war is over,’ she declared simply. 

People smiled, but no one cheered. There were too many lost to cheer.

‘Now, we must recover. There are plenty of rooms for any that wish to stay at Hogwarts. For as long as they may require. But those who stay will be expected to help put the castle back together. 

‘We must grieve, yes. But we must also go on. And the first step in healing ourselves is healing our home.’

McGonagall sat back down at the Gryffindor table and quiet chatter resumed. Harry was grateful she hadn’t singled him out. 

Harry got up to leave the hall with Ron and Hermione and somehow they ended up at the doorway at the same time as the Malfoys.

‘Mr Potter,’ Lucius said. He looked like he hadn’t slept in years, but his voice was polite, something Harry hadn’t really heard from him before. ‘You have my thanks. For … ending things, but also for my son. He says he owes you a life debt.’

‘Oh,’ Harry said. He hadn’t expected Lucius to be able to look him in the eye, if he was being honest with himself. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘Though, I suppose we all do, in a way. He would have killed us all.’ Harry saw that Lucius believed that. He wondered how long he had lived, assuming that he would die at the hands of his once-master.

There was a moment of awkward pause before Harry found himself being hugged tightly by Narcissa Malfoy. He patted her uncomfortably on the back. He was very aware that the hall had been awfully quiet since their conversation had begun. He assumed he was being watched, but couldn’t bring himself to look.

‘Um …’ Harry said.

Narcissa released him. ‘Thank you. For my son.’

‘I wouldn’t have been able to do anything if it weren’t for you, Mrs Malfoy. If anyone owes anyone a life debt, it’s me to you.’

Someone gasped behind him. Harry spun around and saw that many of the people close by had drawn their wands. He was suddenly furious that they would think the Malfoys would hurt him at a time like this. 

‘I’m serious,’ he told the crowd. ‘In fact, everyone in this room owes Mrs Malfoy a life debt, seeing as I would be dead without her lying to Voldemort’s face last night!’

Harry felt a tingle of magic pass over him and looked back to Ron and Hermione, confused. They were staring at Harry with huge eyes.

Malfoy groaned and Harry snapped back around to stare at him. 

‘Did you do that by accident, Potter?’ Malfoy asked.

‘Surely such close classmates as yourselves are on first name basis-’ Lucius said quietly before Malfoy cut him off with a glare. 

‘I am  _ not _ playing that game, father,’ Malfoy hissed. 

‘I don’t mind if you call me Harry,’ Harry said, trying not to sound too cheerful. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Did you just bind everyone in this room to my mother  _ by accident _ ,’ Draco asked, sounding nervous. ‘Harry,’ he tacked on, belatedly.

Harry thought for a moment. ‘Nope,’ he said. ‘I meant it.’

‘Harry,’ Draco said, flinching over the name and with the air of someone trying to explain to a toddler that they should not play with guns, ‘as adventurous as my family is, I doubt my mother is going to get into enough situations where her life needs saving to be able to forgive those debts.’

‘Yeah, but it doesn’t have to be literal, does it?’ Harry looked back to Hermione for confirmation. ‘If, for example, we used the life debt to properly forgive her and her family …’

Hermione looked at Harry with an odd mixture of pity and alarm on her face.

‘Maybe I should just release the magic,’ Narcissa said softly.

‘Don’t you dare,’ Harry said fiercely. 

Draco took a small step backwards. Harry schooled his face into more approachable features. 

‘We were going to go repair Hagrid’s hut,’ Hermione said, finding her voice. ‘You’re welcome to join us.’

Ron grinned at Harry, obviously sure that the Malfoys wouldn’t take a  _ Muggleborn  _ up on the offer to  _ work  _ on a _ half-giant’s _ house.

‘Thank you,’ Lucius said. ‘We weren’t sure where to start.’

 

So, they found themselves outside, in the freezing cold, eyeing the remains of Hagrid’s hut. Sleeping spaces were the priority at the moment, with all the house elves working on the kitchen and not letting anyone else touch it. 

Narcissa waved her wand and cast a warming charm.

‘Thanks,’ Harry said. ‘I’m rubbish at those.’

‘The Manor can get quite cold,’ Narcissa said softly. 

‘You’ll want to clear everything away first, I would think,’ Lucius was saying thoughtfully. 

Harry realised that neither Lucius nor Draco had wands of their own, both thanks to him. He held out his hand for Hermione’s bag and Summoned the wands they had collected. He passed Draco’s to him.

‘Ah, would you be able to use either of these?’ Harry asked Lucius. He had Pettigrew’s and Bellatrix’s wands. 

Lucius took both, feeling them in his hand. He aimed Pettigrew’s wand at a nearby pinecone.

‘Incendio,’ he said. The pinecone smoked slightly, but didn’t catch fire. ‘I don’t want to shirk responsibility, but I also don’t want to be to blame for the house collapsing,’ he said, handing Harry the wands back. ‘Maybe someone else could use them. I’m happy to just direct, for now.’

Harry put the wands back in the bag and aimed his own at the house. ‘Direct away,’ he said to Lucius. 

 

It was tiring work, and awkward, given their companions, but by nightfall the hut was looking a lot more hut-like. It still wasn’t fit to sleep in, but Harry felt quite proud of what they’d accomplished. 

‘Shall we go see if there’s dinner?’ he asked the others. 

Ron dropped his wand arm immediately, massaging at his triceps. 

‘I can’t believe we made it that long,’ he said. ‘You died yesterday, you’d think you would call it quits a bit sooner.’ 

Harry gave Ron a wry smile. ‘I’m nothing if not persistent,’ he said.

The Malfoys were all staring at them with matching looks of horror. 

‘I love how we make a decision to keep certain information close to our chests, and then later on during the  _ same day _ , we just joke about it in front of casual acquaintances,’ Hermione said.

Harry noted that she sounded sarcastic rather than angry, so he gave her a guilty smile.

‘Narcissa was there,’ Harry protested.

‘ _ Narcissa _ found a pulse,’ Narcissa said.

‘Oh, yeah, I mean I came back, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ Lucius breathed.

‘Sorry,’ Ron said, trying to sound contrite but coming across slightly amused.

They started walking back to the castle. Ron moved so that he could put his arm around Hermione and gave Harry a too-innocent look when Harry noticed it meant that Harry and Draco were walking side-by-side. 

‘So, what are your plans?’ Harry asked, trying to sound casual. He didn’t know whether to pretend like this was the Draco he had come to know, saving himself some nerves, or to pretend like the last word Harry had said to him was  _ ‘Sectumsempra’ _ , which wasn’t exactly something that lended to easy conversation. He decided to stop thinking about any of it. 

‘Um … let you know when I know?’ Draco said. He’d actually made a lot of effort over the day. He was strangely polite. Even when Ron had tried to banter about Quidditch, he’d agreed with almost everything he said, and only carefully hedged when Ron had tried to get him to agree that the Cannons were on the verge of the cup. Harry didn’t know how to talk to this kind of Draco, but he supposed he didn’t really know how to talk to any Draco.

‘We don’t want to go back … home,’ Draco said quietly.

Harry glanced behind them. Narcissa and Lucius were trailing behind, Ron and Hermione were leading. Harry could probably count the number of times he and Draco had been alone together on one hand. And those had all ended in violence, as far as he could remember.

‘So you’ll stay here, right?’

Draco looked at Harry, like he was trying to figure out what he meant by that. Harry scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

‘Look, I’m not complaining, obviously, but is there a reason you’re being so nice to me? Is there a reason you saved my life? I thought you were going to kill me, and then you saved me and now you’re … I dunno, it’s like I’m just some guy you went to school with, like I never … I was a little shit, okay, and I’m sorry, for the record, but it’s weird that you …’

‘You’re alright,’ Harry said. ‘I mean, we gave each other a hard time, but that’s all behind us now, right?’

Draco nodded, but the effect was slightly ruined by his expression, which was rather incredulous.

‘I think I’d like for us to be friends?’ Harry said.

Draco stopped walking so that he could give Harry another one of those measuring looks.

‘Okay,’ he said finally, starting walking again. 


	10. Chapter 10

A lot of people stayed at Hogwarts for the first week. It was comforting to have a castle full of people to come back to after the funerals. It was comforting to have work that needed doing when the grief was hard to bear. After the first week, after the funerals were finished and the trial dates had been set, people started to slowly drift away.

Ron and Hermione went to Australia to find Hermione’s parents. They Floo-called Harry every second day with updates, telling him what progress they were making. They didn’t want to rush the Grangers into leaving the new lives they had built, feeling that would be traumatic for them. And there was no rush to get back to England. Ron gushed about a variety of Quidditch that the Australians played that was imaginatively called Australian Quidditch. They had double the amount of players, no bludgers, and anyone could score goals, block goals or catch the Snitch. They also encouraged tackling, which seemed to involve leaping from your broom onto the person holding the Quaffle’s broom. The ground held a strong cushioning charm, but Ron assured Harry that people still got hurt if they tackled too high. There had been a lot of debate about whether to keep the Snitch, especially seeing as the AQ pitches were so much bigger than traditional Quidditch ones, which Ron already had strong views on.

‘I told him, it’s just not Quidditch without the Snitch, you’d have to call it something else, and then he said that he’d be happy to call it something else and then he tackled me, so nothing really got resolved there. D’you reckon McGonagall would let the kids give AQ a go at Hogwarts?’

‘It sounds pretty brutal,’ Harry said doubtfully. 

‘Yeah,’ Ron agreed happily. ‘Ginny would be amazing at it, she’s good at Chasing and Seeking.’

‘I guess I could ask McGonagall? We just finished all the dormitories, so we could work on the pitch today, unless she wants to prioritise classrooms …’

Ron was pulled out of the fire and Hermione’s head replaced him.

‘- minutes already, which was double what I said! Sorry, Harry, he’s been itching to tell someone who gets Quidditch about the Australian Rules version. My dad is just as bad with the Muggle sports, it isn’t just the Australian wizards that are overly fond of tackling. But I’ve talked about sport far too much this week, please tell me what’s new at Hogwarts!

‘Well, they’ve given me my own little suite like the staff have, even though I said I was fine sleeping in the dormitory. McGonagall insisted though, and it wasn’t the same without you guys so I guess it’s fine. We’re done with the sleeping spaces, but there’s only … Draco, how many people are there here now? - Draco reckons there’s about 20 people left helping. So it’s moving a bit slower than it was when you were here. Especially since George left, he’s as good at putting stuff together as he was at blowing it apart.’

‘Draco’s there with you?’ Hermione asked innocently. 

Harry felt himself go red.

‘Yeah, um, when you guys left, and the Weasleys … there’s like two other students I know well enough to talk to here … not that he’s my last choice! In, um, friend …’

‘So, what are you doing now the dormitories are finished?’ Hermione said, her voice shaking with laughter.

‘Well, McGonagall said probably common rooms, but I reckon we should do the Quidditch pitch, then we can have a fly at the end of the day, unwind, you know?’

‘Please don’t talk to me about Quidditch, Harry, I’m up to my eyeballs.’

Harry grinned and changed the subject. ‘How are your parents?’

‘Dad’s fine, he could probably come back with us tomorrow. He loves Melbourne, but he misses England as well. He’s been asking after family friends, that kind of thing. Though, I barely see him because he and Ronald have been  _ out all day, watching sports! _ Which is actually good, because I was a bit worried, they’ve always been good about the wizarding part of my life, but they hoped I’d meet a nice Muggle and stay close to them, you know? And Ron can be a bit clueless about Muggle things. He told me he was having regrets about not picking Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, then he’d be able to understand my parents more. He means Mum, of course. He gets on far too well with Dad already.’

Hermione grinned at Harry. She looked better than Harry had seen her in a long time. Her skin was glowing like she’d been outside a lot, she’d put on some of the weight she’d lost from the months of stress and not enough food, but the biggest difference was that smile. She looked genuinely happy.

‘And your mum?’

‘Oh, she’s alright, really. If we told her we were going, she’d come with us. But she’s made a life here, so I’m letting her untangle it at her own pace. She still makes mistakes sometimes, using the wrong signature, talking about things that didn’t really happen, you know?

‘Of course, it actually rained the other day, so maybe that will convince her to come home!’

Harry laughed. ‘You look like you’ve been getting some sun.’

‘You should see Ron. Of course, my skin doesn’t really get darker than this, but he’s basically one big freckle.’

‘He was just in the fireplace,’ Harry reminded her. 

She stuck her tongue out. ‘You know what I mean. Oh, Harry, we’ve got to go, I’ll call in a couple of days!’

Harry watched as the flames died down, and gave himself a minute to miss his friends. The first day after they left had almost been a relief, seeing as he hadn’t been able to escape them for nearly a year, but that feeling had been short-lived, especially as the castle emptied. He didn’t mind spending time alone, never had, but he felt strange being at Hogwarts without them.

Of course, he wasn’t really alone. He had spent almost all his time with Draco, trying to get to know him. So far, he was being infuriatingly polite. When Harry had stuffed up a spell in front of him, he’d just corrected Harry’s wand grip instead of teasing him. When Harry chatted about Hermione’s parents, Draco just shared his own story about his great Aunt who was improperly Obliviated and complimented Hermione on doing such a good job on her first try. When Harry had served him tea one afternoon in mugs shaped like lions, Draco closed his eyes for a moment, in his first display of restraining himself, but then just asked if Harry already had them or if he’d transfigured them himself. 

Harry was tempted to ask Hermione for advice. But he wanted to crack this himself, and he didn’t think she would be much help anyway.  _ Have you tried talking to him about it? _ she would ask and Harry would have to say no, and then he’d have to talk to Draco before Hermione could say it again. And he didn’t think that Draco would appreciate the direct approach.

‘You alright?’ Draco called from the armchair he was sitting in.

That was the other thing, Harry would invite Draco to come hang out with him and Draco would be there, but he’d sit where Harry told him and agree with whatever Harry suggested. Harry had never known Draco to be so acquiescent. 

Harry went back to the couch and flopped down.

‘Is it stupid to miss my friends?’ he asked.

‘No. I miss mine too, sometimes,’ Draco said mildly. 

None of the Slytherins from their year had stayed. Most of them were taking extended holidays overseas until everything died down.

‘Crabbe and Goyle?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

Draco gave Harry a shrewd look. ‘Do you really want to talk about the people I was friends with at school?’

‘Only if you want to.’

Draco stared at Harry for a long minute and then looked back down at his hands, shaking his head slowly.

‘This-’ Draco gestured at the two of them, ‘-this is about what you want.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You want to save me, or something, bring me over to your side, right? Prove the point? That’s fine, I’m trying to, you know, make it easy, but there’s no point-I mean, you know you can stop at friendly acquaintances, right? Don’t need to push for … whatever, sharing secrets, or I don’t know …’

‘Oh, no, that’s not what I’m doing.’

‘Right.’ Draco looked nonplussed. ‘What are you doing, then?’

‘I told you, I want us to be friends.’

Draco looked at the ceiling for so long that Harry thought about repeating himself.

‘Harry,’ he said, and Harry felt that twinge of amusement he got every time Draco forced himself to use his first name. ‘You don’t want to be friends with me. I’m not a good friend. Ask anyone, I’ll give you references.’

‘I’m sure your friends would tell me-’

‘The best you would get is a “well, I suppose he’s okay, once you get to know him”, I promise.’

‘Any chance you’ll let me make up my own mind?’

Draco hid his face in his hands.

‘You don’t have to filter yourself for me,’ Harry said.

‘Potter, I am so filtered right now you have no idea.’

Harry snorted with amusement. That sounded more like his Draco.

‘I mean Harry,’ Draco corrected.

‘This is so weird. I feel like I had this idea of what you would be like in my head and you’re just nothing like it.’ Harry kicked at his seat awkwardly. 

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ Draco said, staring at his hands. 

Harry sighed. He was starting to feel like his Draco,  _ no _ , the Horcrux Draco, was the ‘real’ Draco. And this quiet boy who never said anything remotely inflammatory was the fake, somehow.

‘I was thinking of asking McGonagall if we could do the Quidditch Pitch today,’ Harry said instead of pushing it further.

‘That shouldn’t be as bad as a lot of the castle stuff, really. It was ruined by people and creatures trampling it more than curses.’

‘That’s what I thought too. I like to think I’ve improved with my repairing and cleaning spells, but they’re just so lethargic on the cursed areas.’

Draco nodded in agreement.

‘So, d’you have a broom here? We could play a Seeker’s game once we’re finished.’

‘I think the broomshed caught fire,’ Draco said awkwardly.

‘Oh. And, actually, my broom is back at the Weasleys, I think. I hope. Merlin, I think I’d cry if it got destroyed.’

Draco smiled in that way he did these days. It didn’t meet his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written this chapter from Draco's point of view as well, because I had to really work to stop myself from adding what he was thinking while he and Harry were talking. I might make a separate fic with all that at some point, depending on whether I want to write more from his POV and if there's any interest.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry had been spending a lot of time with Draco, which meant that he had been spending more time with Narcissa and Lucius as well. Lucius still didn’t have a wand, and had politely refused all attempts to get him one, so Harry had dropped it. Narcissa was very good at getting the after-effects of curses from the castle, which complemented Harry’s ability to find and rework the original enchantments back into the buildings they repaired nicely, so they worked together a lot.

Both Lucius and Narcissa touched Draco often, like they were convincing themselves he was still there. And when Harry had used a  _ Reducto _ on a piece of wall that was refusing to cooperate so that he could just start fresh, Narcissa and Lucius moved as one, shielding Draco behind them. Draco allowed himself to be pushed and then disentangled himself without making a big deal. Narcissa changed her wand hold to one more suited to Charm-work than dueling and Lucius dropped his fists, which he had thrust near his face in a perfect boxing stance. 

Harry was reminded forcefully of Dudley. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to ask where Lucius had learned Muggle fighting, maybe to make some knowledgeable comment that he had picked up, heaven knew that he’d picked plenty up from the way his uncle nattered on about Dudley’s only passion, but instead he just gaped for a while and then turned back to the wall.

Draco went to work on the other side of the room and was immediately followed by Lucius, leaving Harry and Narcissa in somewhat privacy.

‘We’ve had a … difficult time of it lately,’ Narcissa said as she swept curse fragments from the rubble with graceful sweeps of her wand. Her voice was always quiet, but especially at the moment. Harry had to strain to hear her. There was no way that the others could.

‘I can’t imagine,’ Harry said.

‘He was clever. He didn’t just want to injure our bodies. One can grow used to that, can somewhat numb oneself. He thought us so weak for having … attachments. He thought he proved that every time he hurt one of us and the other two suffered as well. 

‘I’m not sure if you know, but he had Draco work a very dangerous mission last year.’

Harry nodded. ‘Dumbledore,’ he said.

Narcissa’s wand hand trembled and then steadied.

‘Yes. Well, naturally, we hated it.  _ He _ couldn’t even kill Dumbledore and he expected our underage boy to succeed? It was … I finally understood how Lucius was grateful to go to Azkaban. I visited him once. He said I could never hesitate if I was confronted with you and your “gang”. He said that if Dumbledore knew how much it hurt to duel children, he’d replace the entire Order so that we might hesitate in action. And then Voldemort would recruit children too.’

Narcissa dropped her wand and breathed deeply for a moment. Harry couldn’t think of anything to say. He thought back to the Department of Mysteries. He had put down Lucius’s panic to being unwilling to risk the prophecy, to incur the wrath of his master if he lost another precious object to Harry Potter. But while Bellatrix and the rest hadn’t hesitated to use lethal force on his friends, he couldn’t remember Lucius casting a single spell at him or his friends. He’d actually deflected some, though again, Harry had thought that was because of the prophecy.

‘You expect me to believe that he’s what, too  _ good _ , to battle children?’ Harry whispered, suddenly angry. He felt like Narcissa was just manipulating him, preying on his naivety. 

‘No. Not too good. Just a father.’ Narcissa abandoned any pretence at working and met Harry’s eyes with great intensity. ‘My husband willingly tortured and killed … I don’t even know how many people. But you are the same age as Draco, he looked at you and saw where his son could be. He might have been able to stomach a lot for his  _ cause _ but not that.’

Harry stared at Narcissa for a while. Finally, he nodded. He was starting to get a better sense of the person that Lucius was.

‘What’s with the boxing? Isn’t that a bit … Muggle?’

Narcissa smiled wryly. ‘When Lucius left school, he was something of a recruiter. He came to the Dark Lord with a list of Hogwarts students he thought would join him. He earned his Mark quickly. But he needed to follow that up. So he became a Muggle dueler and did battle with the kind of … people … that for one reason or another had lost their wands or been denied them in the first place. Vampires, werewolves, even goblins. Some Muggles and Squibs. The Dark Lord wanted terror spread, he didn’t mind if Muggles did their part. 

‘So when Lucius’s wand was destroyed, the Dark Lord said that he should be able to manage without. We were forbidden from asking the wand maker in our dungeons to replace it. Lucius was supposed to feel … impotent. It was very effective.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you relive all that,’ Harry said. 

‘It’s important that you know. It’s important that you see that we haven’t been willing supporters since we were your age. We’ve been prisoners in our own home this year, worse than prisoners. Our actual prisoners were kept relatively safe. The Dark Lord encouraged our  _ guests _ to attack us. It drove Lucius wild, being unable to defend his family. I was punished for my vanity. He wanted me to regret the  _ attentions _ my beauty brought. Draco was punished for his gentleness.’

Narcissa saw Harry’s face and smiled sadly.

‘He is gentle. Or, I hope he still is. It took weeks before he could produce a Cruciatus curse. And he was highly motivated to do so. Whenever he failed … my  _ sister _ helped to tutor him. He never killed. I think he healed more than hurt, but I suppose that’s impossible to know. He did a lot of both. He wants to be a Healer. Or he did, when he used to talk about the future.’

‘Is he okay? He doesn’t seem like himself.’

‘I don’t think he trusts that you want him to seem like himself. But he is remarkably resilient. He seems to recover more each day.’ Narcissa smiled then. ‘Sometimes, hearing him when the three of us are alone, it’s like it used to be.’

Narcissa levitated a piece of wall and nodded to indicate she was ready. Harry closed his eyes and felt for the frayed edges of the ancient castle enchantments. He nodded, keeping his eyes shut, shielding himself from distraction. He knew that Narcissa would charm the rubble back into place and pulled the magic accordingly. They worked well together, better than anyone else apart from McGonagall and Flitwick. After ten minutes of continuous intuitive magic, Harry opened his eyes and found the wall fully healed. Narcissa was sweating and trembling with exhaustion so he suggested they break for lunch. 

 

Harry sat next to Draco, as he usually did. Narcissa pulled Lucius away to sit with Flitwick. They were obviously trying to make allies before they went back to the outside world, but Harry didn’t mind. Having friends wouldn’t stop them from facing the consequences of their actions, but it might ensure that they weren’t automatically dismissed, which seemed like a positive thing.

‘What were you and my mother talking about?’ Draco asked as soon as they were alone.

‘The war,’ Harry said simply. 

Draco looked very worried, so Harry elaborated.

‘It’s not the nicest thing to talk about, but I think I needed to hear it anyway, you know?’

Draco didn’t reply, he just poked at his lettuce with a miserable look on his face.

‘She said you were interested in Healing?’

Draco shot a glare over to Narcissa who was listening attentively to Flitwick.

‘Well, I suppose we’ll see. I can’t imagine many people would trust me to heal them.’

‘Are you any good?’

‘Injure yourself and we’ll find out,’ Draco said snarkily.

‘Alright,’ Harry agreed. He gave himself a shallow cut just above his elbow before he could think about it too much. 

‘Are you crazy!’ Draco hissed. He whipped his wand out and wordlessly healed the cut and then repaired Harry’s shirt. 

Harry pulled his sleeve up and admired the smooth skin.

‘Nice,’ he said. ‘Would have been useful to have you around, I reckon. We relied quite heavily on Dittany the past few months.

Draco sighed. ‘Better than nothing, I suppose.’

‘Can you do bigger things?’

‘Yes, but please don’t hurt yourself again.’

‘Aw, Draco, I didn’t know you cared.’

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry. Harry grinned back. That was two days in a row that he had made Draco speak without thinking.

 

The next day, he brought up Quidditch again. It had been a week since they had repaired the pitch, which was remarkably easy work seeing as it had been built a lot later than the rest of the castle and had been relatively unscathed. Harry had spent the week sussing out where he could borrow a couple of brooms from. In the end, McGonagall had given him her broom and Mrs Weasley had sent Harry his Firebolt back from the Burrow. 

Harry had dinner early and then raced back to his room to grab the two brooms, then sat down with the Malfoys as casually as he could. He hadn’t played against Malfoy since the beginning of sixth year. He’d been furious when Malfoy had given up. The idiot who had replaced him had been barely worth the challenge, and Harry had just known that Malfoy was getting up to something while he was stuck on the pitch. 

Now that he was able to admit his feelings were not always strictly hatred-related in the Malfoy department, he also acknowledged that he had missed seeing Draco flying. There was a reason his Horcrux Malfoy had chosen the just-got-off-the-broom look. 

As Harry waited for conversation to start, he noticed that Draco and Lucius looked rather uncomfortable and that Narcissa seemed to be holding back laughter. 

‘What did I miss?’ he asked.

‘Draco was just giving us all flashbacks to his first Christmas after starting Hogwarts,’ Narcissa said, her eyes sparkling.

‘Oh, so now I’m  _ eleven _ ?’ Draco said. 

Narcissa just pressed her lips together firmly, suppressing her laughter.

‘How about we go speak with Minerva about that Boggart you found today, Tige,’ Lucius said.

Narcissa left with him, and Harry wondered at the way she leaned into him as they walked as if she was a schoolgirl, not a woman married for over twenty years.

Draco was still all red and angry, his teeth gritted like he was holding back a tirade.’

‘You alright there, Draco?’ Harry asked as casually as he could. 

‘She thinks I’m hysterical!’ Draco shrieked. 

‘And your position is that you are … not,’ Harry said, looking away so that he didn’t laugh too.

When he chanced a glance, Draco’s face was so outraged that he couldn’t help himself, he burst into laughter. Draco whipped out his wand, glaring even more when Harry didn’t so much as flinch, and cast a Silencing Charm around himself. Harry laughed even harder as he saw Draco’s throat strain with enthusiastic yet silent swearing. Harry groaned and wiped tears from his eyes and waited for Draco to recover himself. 

He couldn’t read lips well, but he saw Draco attempt to start counting a couple of times before interrupting himself with unmistakable ‘ _ fuck fuck fuck _ ’’s which Harry found fascinating. He wondered about the ten second pauses that occurred fairly frequently during their conversations. By the time Draco made it to ‘seven’ after several false starts, he was quite calm. Harry couldn’t tell what he was counting, though he could tell when he used the numbers, the words that followed could have been anything. 

‘Better?’ Harry asked, when Draco dropped his charm. 

‘Much, thank you,’ Draco said politely. ‘Are we going flying?’

‘If you’re keen.’ Harry thought he was being very impressively casual. 

Draco stood, so Harry joined him and they walked from the hall. Harry handed Draco his Firebolt, keeping McGonagall’s Cleansweep for himself.

‘This is your broom,’ Draco pointed out.

‘Yeah, McGonagall was quite clear that she was loaning  _ me _ her broom, not anyone else. I don’t mind, I’ve ridden Ron’s enough to know a Cleansweep.’

Draco accepted the Firebolt.

‘I haven’t flown in ages, so she might be a bit touchy,’ Harry warned.

‘ _ She _ ?’

‘Ron insists that brooms are all girls.’

Draco made a scoffing noise.

‘What?’ Harry asked.

Draco looked at him warily. 

‘Loosen the filter, Malfoy,’ Harry said with a grin.

‘I was just going to point out that I’ve never seen anything quite so phallic on a girl,’ Draco said, studying the handle of the Firebolt.

Harry let out a loud  _ HA! _ of laughter.

Draco gave him a cautious smile.

They arrived at the pitch and Harry laughed to himself again. Draco looked at him curiously.

‘I was just thinking that you’ve got me comparing broomsticks to cocks and now I have to climb on one. McGonagall’s, no less.’

Draco made a strangled laughing noise. He’d gone bright pink. Harry thought about what he said again. 

‘Ha! And you have to get on mine!’ Harry realised. 

Draco went, if possible, even pinker. Horcrux Malfoy had never blushed. Harry thought about what he would have said if he were there, and decided to give that particular brand of flirting a go. 

He took the Snitch from his pocket and maintained eye contact as he climbed on McGonagall’s broom. He let go of the Snitch.

‘Ten seconds, do you think?’ 

Draco mounted the Firebolt. 

‘Next time, I’ll make sure to be flirt with you intentionally, not on accident,’ Harry said seriously. Then, he winked at Draco and kicked off the ground. A moment later, Draco sped past him. Harry laughed as he remembered the first time he had flown the Firebolt, the way the speed took him by surprise. He rose lazily, scanning for the Snitch. Draco circled the pitch three times before he eased up on speed. Harry watched him instead of looking for the Snitch. It was a tactic that used to drive him spare, especially when Draco was the one doing it, but this time he had little interest in the game itself. 

Draco flew gracefully, as usual. He had adjusted to the Firebolt, and was now gliding gently around the goalposts, looking for all the world as if he didn’t need the broom to fly. He had the kind of seat that Harry thought would lend well to that Australian Quidditch, like he could dive from his broom in an instant. Harry found himself drifting closer and reminded himself to keep his distance. He’d had months to come to terms with wanting Draco. He had to give Draco the space to catch up.

Suddenly, Harry remembered how he and Ginny had first gotten together. The thrill of winning, of flying, giving him the courage to kiss her in the middle of the common room. How later, she had said that she almost beat him to it, that she had always drifted back into an embarrassing crush on him after she watched him fly.

Harry realised that he was being an idiot. For the first time, he remembered his father playing with the Snitch under a tree with carefully rumpled hair and he  _ understood _ . He hooked his feet lightly into the stirrups and fell into a spectacular dive, pulling out at the last moment. Draco hadn’t fallen for the feint, but he was now staring at Harry intensely, so Harry corkscrewed through the air as if dodging a Bludger. He ran through his best moves, combing the pitch as he did, suddenly determined to be the one to catch the Snitch. 

Harry had never played like this. It was the Seeker’s job to keep small, to quietly and then quickly end the game. If he played like this with a full team, he would be mercilessly targeted by the Beaters and he’d get in the way of the Chasers. He’d be too focused on all that to be able to find the Snitch, and he would lose, while also looking like a show off. Today, he hoped he would win while also looking like a show off. 

Finally, Harry saw the Snitch. He spared a quick glance to Draco and saw that it was almost exactly between them. Draco had a sense for when Harry was feinting and when he was really after the Snitch, so Harry didn’t bother to pretend to be casual about it and give Draco the chance to put on speed while Harry bluffed. Instead, he rocketed towards the Snitch with abandon, feeling rather than seeing Draco do the same from his position. The Snitch dodged them both easily when they converged, forcing them to race side by side in an effort to catch it. Harry made himself as flat as possible, urging the broom to go faster, but Draco matched him without resorting to such measures. The Firebolt was faster. Their race had them nearly skimming the ground, so, adjusting his position, Harry made a wild dive from his broom, catching the Snitch and tucking himself into a roll to avoid broken bones.

Draco screeched to a halt and managed to catch the Cleansweep before it went too far. He dismounted gracefully and marched to where Harry lay, gasping for breath on the ground.

‘You are …’ Draco started, but he couldn’t seem to find a word for what Harry was, exactly.

Harry held the Snitch up for his inspection, trying to grin. In hindsight, knocking the wind out of himself wasn’t exactly the sexiest position he could have managed.

‘- insane,’ Draco breathed.

‘Tell me what you really think,’ Harry said, his sarcasm ruined by his breathiness.

‘I haven’t flown in ages. I’ll win next time.’

Harry forced himself to sit up and then winced. He’d grazed his side.

‘What have you done to yourself?’ Draco asked.

‘Just a graze,’ Harry said. ‘Tell me more about your delusions of winning.’

‘Let me see,’ Draco ordered. Harry obligingly stripped his shirt off.

‘This is what you get for pulling a stunt like that when you haven’t even bothered to wear Quidditch robes,’ Draco said.

Harry felt a cool spell against his side and he stretched, testing his skin. It was healed.

‘Ah, perfect, thanks!’

‘This doesn’t mean I approve,’ Draco said. ‘You could have just let me win, for once. But no, of course not, you’ve never lost a game that you weren’t injured during.’

‘Never had to work as hard as when you were playing, though,’ Harry said, climbing to his feet.

Draco grinned then, and it was the first smile Harry had seen on him that felt real.

‘I will beat you next time,’ he promised. ‘I draw the line at letting you win.’

Harry ignored whatever he was saying in favour of staring at him hungrily. He was utterly gorgeous, more so than he had been at school, even more so than the Horcrux had made him. Harry had worried that his expectations had been raised too high by the Horcrux, who he knew could change his own appearance and did so in order to get under Harry’s skin. But this Draco was  _ real _ and he was all messy and flushed from flying and Harry just wanted to find out if a kiss from this Draco would feel anywhere near as good as the kiss he had stolen from the Horcrux. 

Something must have shown on his face because Draco took a step back. He handed Harry both brooms. He spun on his heel and walked back to school alone, leaving Harry to wonder if he’d pushed too far, or not far enough.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry had intended to go straight after Draco and confront him while he was still off-balance, hoping that he would slip up and say what he was really thinking. But on the way to the castle, he ran into Neville. Almost literally.

‘Sorry, mate-Neville! When did you get back?’

Neville gestured at the bag he was carrying. ‘Now,’ he said.

‘Fantastic! Are you staying? What’s going on? Where did you go off to?’

Neville awkwardly returned Harry’s hug. 

‘Um, yes, I’m staying,’ he said. ‘What were the other questions?’

‘Where did you go, after?’

‘Oh. Um. I went home with Gran, but she got sick of me. Said she wasn’t nearly old enough to need me looking over her shoulder all the time and that I had better go do something useful with myself.’

Harry didn’t know whether he was allowed to laugh.

‘So, um, I thought I’d come back here. Our career advice appointments were a bit of a joke last year. I told McGonagall I wanted to be a guerrilla fighter, because that’s what Ginny told me to say. Not sure what she had against gorillas, but …’

‘What did McGonagall say?’

‘She said, “Well, you seem to be managing just fine on your own,” and gave me a biscuit. Did you know she keeps biscuits in her office?’

‘Yeah, I think she saves them for when you’re being properly idiotic,’ Harry grinned. 

‘What’s going on with you? You seem very … chipper.’

‘Ah, Nev, the world didn’t end! The rest is just details, you know?’

Neville smiled at that. Harry picked up Neville’s bag and carried it into the castle.

‘You can take Hannah’s old room, she left last week. There’s less than twenty of us left here, but we’re actually doing pretty well. I reckon we’ll be done in time for the new term. Oh! You can help Sprout with the Greenhouses! You know she chucked half her stock at Death Eaters? She’s a madwoman. And she won’t let anyone help her organise it, I tried and she told me, “Potter, this is not a problem you can use  _ Expelliarmus _ on”. I swear,  _ she _ said that. Not McGonagall, Sprout. I mean, I know I wasn’t the best Herbology student, but I was fair, wasn’t I?’

Harry stopped talking because Neville wasn’t answering.

‘Um, yes, you were alright, I guess? Harry, I’ve never heard you talk this much.’

‘I know, I can’t help it.’

‘It’s good, really. Tell me about the repairs.’

They climbed the steps as Harry chattered about Hogwarts and then filled Neville in on Ron and Hermione’s mission/holiday in Australia. He talked as they set up Neville’s room and then walked back down to the Great Hall. Harry figured it was only a bit early for dinner and they might run into other people there. 

They had been sitting for less than five minutes, and Neville had just joked that Harry had finally run out of things to say when Draco joined them.

‘Hi!’ Harry said brightly. He was ready to ignore the way they had left things last time if Draco was. It might have been better that he had accidentally given Draco time to think about things rather than just rushing after him as he had intended. 

‘Oh, Longbottom, you’re back,’ Draco said. ‘I thought you were someone else.’

Neville nodded awkwardly.

‘Is this okay?’ Harry asked, gesturing between the two of them. ‘I like you both, but if it’s too awkward …’

‘Malfoy’s fine,’ Neville said quietly.

Harry looked at them some more, trying to gauge what had happened while he had been camping. He probably would never find out. 

‘Sprout will be glad you’re back, she won’t let any of us near the Greenhouses,’ Draco said.

‘That’s what I said!’ Harry said. 

‘She won’t even let Mother help, and she cultivated Britain’s second largest magical maze.’

Harry shuddered, thinking of the only magical maze he had been in.

‘Oh, no, not like that, it was beautiful. Nothing deadly. Maybe that’s why Sprout thought she was out of her depth, come to think of it.’

‘It  _ was _ beautiful?’ Neville asked.

‘There was an incident with some Fiendfyre.’ Draco said shortly. 

‘Oh … My grandmother saw it on one of those open days when I was little. I didn’t go, because she was worried I was a Squib, but she told me all about it. I had hoped I would get to see it one day.’

‘Open days?’ Harry asked.

‘Yeah, some of the old families open up their homes so other wizards can see what they’ve done with the place.’

‘So they can show off,’ Draco corrected. ‘It was fun, though. I became friends with Pansy because we kept running into each other at them. The Belby’s have the most incredible house, it’s full of secret passageways.’

‘Did you ever see Flume’s Christmas display? He made a gingerbread house so big that someone could have comfortably lived inside it.’

‘Yeah, Merlin, I’d forgotten about that … Did you ever see the Black Halloween one?’

‘Ah … no …’

Draco looked stricken. ‘Sorry, I forgot.’

Neville shrugged.

‘Was that at my house?’ Harry asked.

Draco just looked at him oddly.

‘The Black Halloween thing. Was it the London Black house? You’d know it as Walburga’s, I’d say.’

‘Yes …’

‘Oh, cool. That’s mine now. Sirius Black left it to me.’

‘I would have thought he’d blown the place up,’ Draco said lightly.

‘I’m kinda surprised he didn’t.’

‘His mum was a nutter, that’s not what all purebloods are like. I mean, you know that, you know other purebloods, but …’

‘He doesn’t really, not like what you mean,’ Neville said. ‘Malfoy’s right, everyone knew the Blacks were crazy. You can be traditional without disowning people for shopping at Tesco.’

‘I mean, my family are still pretty crazy. Or were. It’s just the three of us now, maybe it’ll get better,’ Draco said.

‘My family too, I don’t think there’s such thing as a “normal” family,’ Neville said. 

They lapsed into silence. 

‘Right, well, I’ll leave you to it,’ Draco said, standing up. He walked over and joined his parents. Narcissa gave Harry a little wave, which he returned.

‘What’s going on there?’ Neville said, jolting Harry back to himself.

‘Where?’

‘Between you and Malfoy. Are you friends now?’

‘Oh, yeah, I guess so. I mean, I want to be his friend and we’ve been spending a lot of time together, but he’s very stiff, you know?’

Neville gave Harry an odd look.

‘What?’ Harry asked.

‘It’s just weird. Why do you want to be his friend in the first place?’

‘Well, part of it’s because he’s here and helping, right? And he doesn’t want to go back home, which I get, it must have a lot of bad memories. And I know we spent a lot of time picking on each other, but that seems very unimportant now, and I might be doing the thing where I look back on the things and they don’t seem as bad as they really were because I don’t have to live through them anymore, but it just didn’t seem like a good enough reason to not make a friend.’

Neville gave Harry another odd look.

‘I think that’s the first time I’ve suspected you of lying to me since fourth year,’ he said.

Harry blushed. He hadn’t actually had to justify himself to anyone about Draco yet, but he had been expecting it. He had hoped that he would be able to say something halfway convincing. 

‘Please tell me you only can tell when I’m lying because you know me so well,’ Harry said. He had always thought he was a rather good liar.

‘Yeah, don’t worry, I’m sure you can still lie to teachers and fans or whatever. I’ve just seen you lie enough times that I can see the difference.’

Harry felt himself relax marginally. Neville no doubt still expected a response, but at least he wasn’t going to accidentally reveal the secrets behind Voldemort’s destruction due to not practicing lying enough lately. 

‘Right, so the thing is …’ Harry paused, thinking. His natural pattern with lying was to use as much truth as possible. ‘I thought about Draco a lot while we were on the run. You know how I could see into Voldemort’s mind sometimes? Well, I saw what he was putting Draco through a couple of times. And it got me thinking that he really didn’t have a choice about the side he was on. I wasn’t sure I would have acted differently in his shoes. It’s hard to hate someone once you understand them.’

Neville nodded. 

‘You know, he was … like he didn’t help DA or anything, but he didn’t go along with the Carrows like I thought he would. I reckon he knew we were using the Room of Requirement, too, I mean, he caught us in it last time and he knew how to use it as well, but he just turned a blind eye. And his  _ Crucio _ s were just feeble.’

Harry squirmed a little. He couldn’t imagine what Hogwarts had been like while he was Horcrux hunting. 

‘I don’t have a problem being friendly with him, is what I’m saying, anyway. I mean, he was a prick to me when we were kids, but you’re right about looking back on things charitably. Your first Quidditch match he started taunting you and Ron and I got into a fight with him and his cronies. I ended up in the Hospital Wing, but I remember afterwards thinking that it was the most Gryffindor thing I’d ever done. I didn’t believe I belonged before that. Not that it excuses anything, mind, but it was still …’

‘Looking back it’s easier to laugh about that stuff, isn’t it?’

Neville nodded in agreement. 

‘Bigger villains to worry about. Besides, the castle’s basically empty, we can’t avoid him. And he was making an effort then, wasn’t he?’

‘Yeah,’ Harry sighed. ‘He’s always making an effort.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’

‘I just feel like he’s not being real with me.’

‘And that’s … bad?’

‘Yeah! I mean, he’s funny, isn’t he? And dramatic and posh and all the rest of it. I think that might be good, now that it probably won’t be targeted at me. Even if it was targeted at me. God knows I could stand to be teased every now and then.’

‘Missing Ron?’ Neville asked kindly. 

Harry smiled and nodded. He was missing his Horcrux, but he wasn’t telling Neville that. And he did miss Ron as well. He’d never coped that well when he didn’t have Ron firmly in his corner. Not that Ron wasn’t in his corner. He was just too far away to provide his specific brand of support. 

‘Bit stupid of me, considering I haven’t been able to get a moment’s peace from him in however many months.’

‘You mean years,’ Neville teased. 

Harry grinned. He was glad to have Neville back. Especially this Neville, who had grown the confidence to call Harry out on his shit. He supposed that leading a revolution would do that.


	13. Chapter 13

Even though Draco had sat with him and Neville the previous night, Harry still stopped in his tracks when he arrived at breakfast and saw the two of them eating without him. Then he forced himself to move. If Ron could make nice with Draco for Harry’s sake, Neville could. But Ron had had weeks to get used to the idea. And Harry  _ knew _ that Hermione had given him a big talk about the illusions of choice and morality when it came to Draco, because Ron had warned him about it when they were at Bill’s cottage. 

‘And the bathrooms got a helluva lot nicer once the girls started showing up. I know it reacts to needs, but honestly, I like a good wash as much as the next guy …’ Neville was saying.

‘What’re you talking about?’ Harry asked. 

‘Room of Requirement,’ Neville said. ‘Draco’s used it almost as much as us.’

Harry smiled in surprise to hear Neville refer to Draco by his first name.

‘Speaking of, now that we’re  _ friends _ ,’ Draco said. ‘Would you mind telling me what you were doing in the Room of Hidden Things  _ that  _ night?’ Draco leaned in conspiratorily to Neville. ‘I thought he’d gone insane.’

‘Ah …’ Harry said. 

‘Is that where you went off to?’ Neville asked. ‘When you had to find … something Ravenclaw-ey?’

‘Ah …’ Harry said. 

‘Was Luna right?’

‘Well, sort of, it didn’t look anything like that mad thing her dad made, but it was the diadem we needed.’

‘You’re being very cagey,’ Draco observed.

‘Yeah, um, see the whole thing is just a really long story, and I don’t know how to explain it all without talking about things that Ron, Hermione and I decided we shouldn’t talk about.’

‘What, like that  _ thing _ you let slip to me?’ Draco said, his eyes wide as he tried to communicate subtly. If this was what passed for non-verbal communication in Slytherin, Harry didn’t find it surprising that Draco had never gotten away with as much as he did. 

‘Yeah, I mean, I trust you guys. But then, I should trust Kingsley and McGonagall and the rest too ... But I suppose you guys can keep it to yourselves, whereas they might feel obligated to share it? And you both really deserve to know because you were involved with some of it directly ... There’s just not an easy way to say these things. 

‘So, Neville, what Draco was just talking about was the fact that I died, like for real died, when I went into the forest.’

‘Okay …’ Neville said. 

‘No it’s not okay, it’s fucking mental,’ Draco said. 

Harry raised his eyebrows. It was the most colourful thing that Draco had said in front of him since they had begun speaking on friendly terms.

‘It is,  _ Harry _ , I’m not being disrespectful,’ Draco said. 

‘Right. Well, there’s a reason for it, I’m not, like,  _ Master of Death _ or anything.’ Harry allowed himself to smile, wishing Ron was there to laugh at his joke. 

Neville and Draco didn’t laugh. They just looked at him seriously.

‘Okay, fine. Have you ever heard of a Horcrux?’ Harry asked.

They shook their heads.

‘They’re rare, and basically as dark as dark magic gets, and I don’t know the exact process because, why would I want to, but … okay, so if you kill someone, it affects your soul, right? And then, if you do some complicated, evil magic, you make that damage worse and  _ split _ a portion of your soul from yourself, and then you can place it in a container.’ Harry stopped talking to see if they were following. Based off their horrified faces, they were. ‘Um, so once you make a Horcrux, so long as the thing is safe, you can’t be killed. Which is why Voldemort didn’t really die when he tried to kill me the first time.’

‘Fuck,’ Neville breathed. 

‘So, wait, if he hadn’t had those Horcruxes he would have died in 1981?’ Draco asked.

‘Yeah, exactly. I mean, as it was, he didn’t have a body, so he was less than a ghost, had to possess animals and people to hide himself safely and wait for one of his followers to revive him.’

Neville and Draco both looked repulsed, but they weren’t asking any more questions, so Harry continued. 

‘So, most wizards would think it was better to die a clean death than make even one of these, but Voldemort was insane, so by the time we …  _ met, _ in ‘81, he’d made five: a family ring, a diary, Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem and Slytherin’s locket. I think he was the first to make more than one, but that’s not something we’ll ever know, probably. People don’t like to write this stuff down, they don’t want anyone to … copy.

‘That night, he killed my dad easily, he didn’t even have his wand on him. Then he told my mum she could live, so long as she let him kill me, but she refused. She sacrificed her life for me, which … like I don’t quite understand, but basically that love gave me some protection, and his killing curse rebounded and hit him. But he’d split his soul too many times, it didn’t need to be encouraged to rip apart, and killing unarmed parents while they protected their one-year-old … I imagine that’s even worse for your soul than regular murder. So a bit of his soul broke away and latched onto me.’

Draco made an unintelligible noise and leaned slightly away. Neville grabbed Harry’s hand.

‘How? What?’ Neville tried to articulate, but Harry held up the hand that Neville wasn’t squeezing the life out of.

‘So, ignore all that for a bit, it’s just useful background information to know. I didn’t know that I was a Horcrux until the night of the battle. Anyway, you know Voldemort tried to come back with the Philosopher’s Stone in first year? Everyone in school knew that happened, right?’

They nodded.

‘And then in second year, ah … your dad gave Ginny Weasley a diary that contained a bit of Voldemort, which then possessed Ginny and had her open the Chamber of Secrets.’

Draco made another noise. 

‘Oh, he was very angry …’ he said under his breath.

‘Right, now you know why. It wasn’t just that Lucius had given something away that he had valued, it was literally a piece of his soul.

‘Anyway, I stabbed that with a fang from the Basilisk-’

Draco held his hand up to stop Harry. ‘The Basilisk was the monster, I get that, but how did you get it to bite the diary? I know you’re a Parselmouth, but …’

‘Oh, it didn’t bite the diary, it bit me when I stabbed it with the sword of Gryffindor, but the fang snapped off in my arm, so I used that and stabbed the diary. And then Dumbledore’s phoenix cried on my arm, so I didn’t die.’

Neville put his face in his hands. Harry flexed his now free hand. Neville had gotten  _ strong _ .

‘So,’ Harry said, when it looked like they weren’t going to push the issue anymore, ‘one Horcrux down. And then he came back at the end of fourth year, but you already know that, and then Dumbledore killed another Horcrux just before sixth year, the ring, but not before mortally wounding himself, and some time around there Voldemort made his snake into a seventh Horcrux-’

‘The one you had me kill …’ Neville said.

‘Yeah, that was the last one. That’s what I mean, you were involved, you deserve to know this. And Ron killed the locket while we were on the run, Hermione killed the cup, I killed the diadem, and then there was just me and the snake. Obviously you got the snake, and then I let Voldemort kill me. He got the Horcrux as well, obviously, and then I sort of had the option to come back, so I did. And then I killed him. Or he killed himself, whichever way you prefer to look at it.’

They sat in silence for a while so that Draco and Neville could come to terms with the hidden side of Harry’s battle with Voldemort.

‘So that was what I was doing in the Room, we had to find the diadem.’

There was a pause, and then Draco recovered enough to say, ‘Okay, but I wasn’t really asking  _ why _ you were in there, I was asking what was up all of you.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Harry lied. He hoped they were distracted enough to not push it. They were not.

‘First, he walks straight past us as if we don’t matter,’ Draco told Neville. ‘Then he had this crazy smile on his face, I swear, I’ve never been so nervous in my life, I thought he was gonna kill me. And I’ve thought my life was in danger a lot, it’s worse when you think it’s coming from him, I’m telling you now.’

Neville glanced between the two of them. 

‘No, well, um …’

Harry looked pleadingly at Neville. Neville just looked baffled. Which, was really fair enough. 

‘I was just happy to see you?’ Harry tried.

Neville scoffed.

Draco met his eyes briefly.

Harry worried that they saw the truth in that statement.

‘I mean, I was worried when I heard  _ someone _ in the room, no one knew where we were. You were best case scenario, you know. And then you got so nervous when I looked relieved, um … we just went with it?’

Draco looked utterly unconvinced. But he didn’t push it. 

Neville looked amused. ‘You lucked your way out of it?’

‘Does that not sound like something I would do?’ 

Neville met Draco’s eyes and Harry watched in amazement as they shared an exasperated look. Apparently, bonding over the unfairness of Harry’s luck was the kind of thing that accelerated friendships. 

 

Harry and Draco went with Neville to see Sprout. Even though Neville was easily top of their year for Herbology in both marks and enthusiasm, Harry still half-expected him to get a dressing down like he had. After all, he’d say he got a bit of a pass, seeing as he’d recently saved all of wizardkind.

But of course, Sprout loved Neville and was delighted to see him.

‘Longbottom! Yes, good to see you! Come in, come in, mind that Tentacula, I only have her left.’

Then she saw Harry and Draco hovering at the doorway of the greenhouse.

‘No. Absolutely not. I won’t have you two in here, I told you that. Longbottom, did you tell them they could come?’

‘No, Professor,’ Neville said. 

‘The greenhouses are utter wrecks at the moment, I don’t have the time or attention to babysit you two. Go on, I’ll tell you when you can come back if you’re that desperate.’ 

Harry decided to back away before she got personal. Draco followed.

‘Where are we working today, then?’ Draco asked.

‘Well, we’ve done all the important parts, I was thinking we should work top down or something until it’s finished?’

‘There probably isn’t as much damage in the towers,’ Draco said.

They fell into step easily as they made their way up the stairs. They decided on the Astronomy tower first. Harry couldn’t stop smiling as he watched their feet. They might still struggle to communicate honestly, but they were somewhat in sync, and he loved it. 

They did good work together, as well, maybe not as good as the work that Harry and Narcissa did, but close enough that Harry didn’t feel bad for choosing Draco as his partner sometimes. Especially as Draco had better stamina than Narcissa. 

They’d covered several rooms before Draco brought up their conversation from breakfast.

‘I won’t tell anyone, about the Horcruxes or any of it,’ Draco said, so quietly that Harry considered pretending he hadn’t heard. 

‘Thanks,’ he said instead.

‘I’m still not entirely sure why you told me. I wouldn’t have taken it personally if you had said that it was secret war business, or whatever.’

‘I always thought that we were opposites, you know? Like, Dumbledore gave me an impossible mission, Voldemort gave you one. We matched, for the most part. And then, without you, Voldemort would have been master of the elder wand, and I honestly don’t know that I could have defeated him, even given my wand relationship advantages if he had full control over it.’

Draco lowered his wand to stare at Harry.

‘We might have been opposites on the Quidditch pitch, but we weren’t equals in this war,’ he said. ‘Since  _ he _ came back, everyone talked about you like you were a real threat, second only to Dumbledore in important targets to get rid of. They said they couldn’t risk infiltrating the school again, and completely dismissed me when I reminded them that they already had someone on the inside. I was just a kid to them. Even after they gave me the Dark Mark. Just a disposable kid. He loved proving how weak I was.’

‘I saw him use you to torture Yaxley,’ Harry said.

‘I …’

‘It’s okay, I mean, no, of course it’s not okay, but I don’t judge you for it. I just mean, I know that it must have been just as hard on your end as it was on mine this past year.’

‘Could we … not compete? I mean, both our shit was awful, do we need to know who had the bigger pile?’

Harry smiled at that. 

‘That is incredibly sensible,’ he said.

‘Yeah, well, I  _ have _ sense, even if I don’t use it.’

‘Should we stick to lighter topics? At least for the rest of the day?’

‘Go on then, hit me with something light.’

Harry wordlessly cast  _ Lumos _ and shone the light in Draco’s face. He gave Harry a look of utter boredom.

‘ _ Hilarious _ ,’ he said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco's starting to loosen up, finally!  
> Sorry the posting has slowed down, ironically, now that I'm done with uni for the year I seem to be more busy than ever.


	14. Chapter 14

After Harry and Draco’s first heart to heart, Harry had somewhat expected more to follow. He thought there might be more serious conversations, more exposing truths on both sides. The thought terrified him, but also excited him. He’d missed Draco so much, and even though he tried not to compare him to the Horcrux version, it was hard not to. They looked the same, they had the same tics … Harry wondered how often he must have stared at Draco pre-Horcrux in order to get all the details right.

But while those conversations hadn’t happened in the week since, a different, more significant change had occurred: Draco had relaxed.

One night, when Harry invited Draco to hang out with him and Neville, Draco turned him down. (Harry was aware how ridiculous it was that he thought that was monumental progress, but it was, Draco had never said no to him once since the battle.)

Draco started making jokes again. True, they were rather less pointy jokes than the ones that Harry had come to expect, and some went completely over his head (though Neville howled with laughter at those ones, so they must have wizarding logic), but they were still  _ jokes _ and some were even at Harry’s expense.

Neville had said to Harry upfront that he  _ had _ decided to feel nothing about Draco, to not hold his past against him or to pity him, but to just feel nothing. But within a couple of days of sharing meals and jokes, they were on friendly terms. Perhaps the blank slate helped. Harry thought it had more to do with who Neville was as a person. 

Part of Harry thought he might like to confide in Neville all the drama with the Horcrux, as a sort of test run to see how someone outside the tent would react. Because he thought he would probably have to tell Draco all about it sooner or later. If he wanted to develop the friendship into a romance. Which he really did.

It seemed impossible that Draco hadn’t noticed the effect he had on Harry. Harry felt like he was constantly acting like an idiot, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Like when Draco walked into his room after spending the day with Slughorn, working on the Slytherin dungeons, and Harry leapt to his feet before he realised what he was doing. He covered it by putting the kettle on and making them all tea, but he knew that didn’t quite explain the goofy look that must have been on his face. 

Or like how Harry had twice realised that Neville and Draco were halfway through their meals before he had gotten over a fit of Draco staring to start eating his.

Or how unspeakably nervous Harry had become when Draco had suggested a rematch to their Seeker’s game. Which Harry was now getting ready for. He’d found a pair of Quidditch robes in Gryffindor tower that fit him so well he didn’t think they could have belonged to him seeing as he’d grown since he last played, but he couldn’t think of any other players that were built like him. He was staring at the mirror in his bedroom, panicking about his hair. It was out of control. It hadn’t been cut since Shell Cottage, and was longer than usual, but he didn’t trust himself to fix it. And obviously Draco knew what his hair looked like, they’d been together all day. And it was useless to try and flatten it, he was about to get on a broomstick.

Finally, it was late enough that he could justify heading to the pitch. On the first floor staircase, he ran into McGonagall.

‘Oh, hello Potter,’ she said distractedly. 

She did a double take. ‘Going for a fly? With two broomsticks?’

Harry smiled. ‘Seeker’s match with Draco.’

‘Any particular reason for the Gryffindor pride? Not that I object, of course.’

‘Last time I grazed myself coming off a messy dive, thought I should dress properly this time.’

‘My word, you look so much like your father. Particularly with all  _ this _ going on,’ she said, gesturing vaguely at Harry’s head. 

Suddenly, Harry loved his crazy hair.  

‘Listen, Professor, Ron’s been playing this crazy version of Quidditch over in Australia, he asked me to have a word …’

‘No, absolutely not. We don’t have the pitch for it, for starters, and it’s  _ very _ undignified. Might as well ask for a Quodpot league. Which, for the record, Hogwarts cannot do. Professor Dumbledore signed an agreement with the governors that game would be banned for a hundred years.’

‘What’s Quodpot?’ Harry asked curiously.

‘American Quidditch with exploding balls. We had one game before the ban. And I won’t go into it.’

Harry held his hands up in surrender. McGonagall’s expression had gotten quite fierce. 

‘How d’you reckon we’re going with the repairs?’ Harry asked to change the subject.

‘Better than I’d hoped, actually. We’ll be done by June at this rate.’

Harry smiled broadly. McGonagall nodded slightly and left him in the Entrance Hall before making her way into the dungeons.

Harry walked outside. It was wonderfully mild, perfect Quidditch conditions. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Draco lying casually on the pitch, looking up at the clouds. He was wearing his Slytherin Quidditch robes, which was not helping Harry stay neutral or platonic at all. He felt his face break out into a huge grin and couldn’t bring himself to restrain it. He didn’t try too hard. A huge part of him hoped Draco would know what it meant, that he was always so very happy to see him. 

He threw Draco his Firebolt and was unsurprised when Draco caught it easily before it hit him or the ground. Draco lazily put his hand in the air and it took Harry a moment before he realised that he was supposed to help him up. He clasped Draco’s hand and pulled. They ended up very close together. Draco stepped back lightly and mounted the Firebolt. 

‘You going to let the Snitch out?’ he asked. Harry felt like they were doing a whole lot of eye contact. He took the Snitch from his pocket without looking at it. He felt it unravel its wings. He let it go. Draco hadn’t broken eye contact yet. Harry mounted the Cleansweep and hovered next to Draco. 

‘I was thinking there should be stakes,’ Draco said.

The two of them circled slowly, their toes still brushing the ground.

‘What kind of stakes?’ Harry asked. He didn’t think he was reading too much into this. Surely this meant that Draco fancied him too.

‘Can’t you think of anything you want from me?’

Harry’s brain stalled.  _ YES _ , his brain helpfully supplied. 

‘Er …’

‘I suppose I’ve put you on the spot.’

‘Just a bit,’ Harry said, trying to sound casual and not like one of his greatest fantasies was coming to life.

‘Well, how are you with push-ups?’

Harry’s mind whirred for a moment before he made sense of Draco’s question. ‘Push-ups like the exercise?’ He balanced on his broom and and pushed his arms from his body to clarify.

Draco nodded.

‘Yeah, I can do them. Where are you going with this?’

‘Loser has to do twenty push-ups,’ Draco said with a shrug.

‘Make it fifty and you’ve got yourself a deal.’

Draco held out his hand and they shook. The second Harry let go, Draco pushed off hard and rocketed to the far goalposts. Harry grinned and took a more sedate pace, starting on a low circle of the pitch. He was a bit relieved that the bet was so innocent. It was one thing to bet the winner a blow-job in his mind, where everything was fun and flirty and there were no awkward morning-afters, but in real life he would rather play it at least somewhat safe.

It was half an hour before Draco caught the Snitch. Harry wasn’t that surprised. He was distracted as hell, replaying Draco asking what Harry wanted from him over and over. They landed in the centre of the pitch.

‘So, twenty push-ups?’ Harry asked, lying the Cleansweep gently on the ground before he climbed onto all fours.

‘ _ Fifty _ ,’ Draco corrected. 

Harry grinned at him and did five quick push-ups before he had a bolt of inspiration. He sat back on his heels and took his robes off. He was wearing pants, but no shirt underneath.

‘What are you doing?’

‘The capey bit was throwing me off,’ Harry lied. 

He did another ten before Draco spoke again.

‘This isn’t even hard for you, is it?’

Harry huffed out a laugh. It really wasn’t. Push-ups were just one of the ways he got rid of all his nervous energy after a day of spellwork. Doing magic left him feel jittery and alive, always had. 

‘There has to be a way to make this harder,’ Draco said.

‘Are you even counting?’ Harry asked, pausing with his arms extended. ‘Twenty-one, just so you know.’

‘This isn’t even a punishment!’

‘Fine,’ Harry said. The next push-up he threw himself higher and clapped before landing again. He couldn’t do it every time, so he did it every second time. ‘Thirty,’ he told Draco, because he still didn’t seem to be counting. He was starting to get out of breath, the clappy ones threw off his breathing rhythm. He paused again at fourty to look at Draco. He hadn’t said anything in a while and Harry wanted to catch his breath. ‘How am I doing?’

‘You still have ten to go,’ he said. 

Harry obediently faced the ground again and pumped out the last ten, abandoning the claps. When he was finished, he rolled onto the ground and faced the sky, pushing his hair out of his face. 

Draco hesitated for a moment and then laid down next to him.

‘What’re you thinking about?’ Harry asked. 

‘I’ll have to come up with a better bet for next time.’

‘Careful. If I catch the Snitch then you’ll have to do it.’

‘I don’t see that as a real threat,’ Draco said in Harry’s favourite cocky voice. 

Harry turned his head to the side to grin at Draco. 

‘McGonagall said we’ll be done by June,’ Harry said.

Draco groaned. 

‘No, sorry, ignore me,’ he said. ‘It’s good that we’re fixing the castle. I just don’t know what we’re gonna do once it’s done.’

‘You don’t want to go home, do you?’

Draco shook his head. He was staring determinedly at the clouds.

‘The other thing is, the Ministry probably want to put us on trial, right?’

‘Maybe,’ Harry said. ‘I haven’t heard much on that front.’

Draco’s mouth twitched downwards. 

‘I’ll speak on your behalf, though,’ Harry said. ‘For you and your parents. You were basically prisoners, right, and now you’ve spent the last month and a half working every day to heal the damage from the battle. That’s got to count for something.’

‘Will you really speak for us?’ Draco asked, meeting Harry’s eyes at last. 

Harry nodded. He loved Draco’s eyes. They were the most fascinating grey colour.

‘Thank you,’ Draco said. He reached out and lightly pressed Harry’s hand. ‘I mean it, thank you.’

Harry looked back at the clouds. Draco’s arm was pressed fully against his. Even though Draco’s arm was still protected by the thick Quidditch robes, Harry’s was bare, and it felt electric. Draco let go of Harry’s hand but didn’t move his arm away. 

‘Draco,’ Harry said, still looking at the clouds, not daring to look away, to see Draco’s reaction. ‘Can I kiss you?’

Harry’s heart beat heavy in his throat while he waited for Draco to respond. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he turned his head towards Draco. Draco was watching him carefully.

‘Yes,’ he breathed.

Harry rolled over and put his weight on his elbow, and placed his hand on the ground by Draco’s head, before gently pressing a kiss to Draco’s lips. Draco wound his fingers into the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck and kissed him back.

Harry ended the kiss before he let it get too passionate. He wanted all of Draco, wanted him so badly it hurt, but he didn’t want to rush things. He rolled onto his back again.

Draco sat up and hugged his knees.

‘I think I have some stuff to think about,’ he said quietly. 

‘Yeah, sure,’ Harry said. ‘I … do you want me to leave you to it for a bit?’

‘That might be best. I’ll come to you when I’m ready, okay?’

Harry nodded before he realised that Draco wasn’t looking at him. ‘Yeah, of course. I … Let me know if … yeah, just take your time.’

Draco nodded to himself and then rose and walked to the castle, all without looking at Harry again. Harry covered his face with his hands. He’d just kissed Draco Malfoy. And he’d do anything to make it happen again.


	15. Chapter 15

Three days after Harry had kissed Draco, Neville knocked on Harry’s door.

‘A very weird thing has just happened to me,’ Neville said.

Harry started making tea while he waited for Neville to continue.

‘I have been very good about your sudden friendship with Draco, I think. I would even say that I am friends with him myself, which 12-year-old-Neville would find hilarious and frightening.’

‘Yeah, you’ve been great,’ Harry agreed.

‘But it is one thing to be able to talk to him casually at mealtimes and a-whole-nother thing to be asked to have a heart-to-heart with him, wouldn’t you agree?’

Harry nodded, unsure where this was going.

‘I would have thought, given that you two are so chummy, he would go to you if he needed to talk about his feelings.’

‘What has he said, exactly?’

Neville took out a note from his pocket and read: ‘Neville, please come talk to me about my feelings or at least listen to me rant a bit because I have no one else to talk to and I mean that in the most pathetic way possible. It’s literally you or my mother. I cannot talk to my mother about my feelings, Neville, I just cannot do it. Draco.’

Harry snorted.

‘Yeah, I know, and I think it’s mostly ironic, but there’s just enough truth there to make me actually feel like I have to do it.’

‘What did you say back?’

‘I told him I had a few things to do this morning but I’d meet him after lunch at the Lake. And then I came here to see if you knew what I was getting myself into.’

Harry smiled sheepishly.

‘What did you do?’ Neville asked dejectedly.

‘I kissed him,’ Harry said. He tried to sound casual, but he was grinning again, just like he had been every time he thought about it. He’d done the brave thing and actually kissed the boy he liked, and it had been wonderful and he would really like to do it a bunch more times. 

‘What the fuck?’ Neville asked. Harry handed him the tea he had finished making. ‘Thanks,’ Neville said automatically. ‘No, actually, fuck you. Am I seriously going to talk to Draco sodding Malfoy about his feelings for Harry Potter? Is that a thing that I am going to have to do? I don’t want to do this! I would really like for this to not be my problem. Why did you kiss him?’

Harry forced himself not to laugh at Neville’s outburst. Angry people generally don’t like it when you find their anger cute, Harry knew this. He had dated Ginny Weasley, the cutest and most angry person he knew. 

‘I just wanted to and I thought he might be okay with it. I asked first.’ Harry was actually quite proud of himself for asking. He would have understood if Draco had said ‘no’. He was really glad he hadn’t, though. 

Neville put his head in his hands.

‘I have so very little romance experience, I am utterly unqualified for this,’ he mumbled into his hands. 

‘He told me he wanted to think about it and asked me to give him space, so I am,’ Harry said. He thought about telling Neville how patient he was being, but he thought that might ruin the effect. 

‘So, what exactly is it you want out of this situation?’ Neville asked finally.

‘I like Draco. I would really like to kiss him again. But if he wants to just be friends, I can do that too. Well, maybe not, I don’t know how you be friends with someone when you want them and they don’t want you, that sounds very awkward. So maybe if he doesn’t want me back I won’t hang out with him as much, and we’re nearly done with castle repair stuff anyway, so it wasn’t like we were going to be seeing each other daily anyway. So, yeah, friendship is okay. And obviously either way I’m gonna help him with the Ministry stuff.’

‘I just don’t know how to react to all this. Did you befriend him with this in mind? How long have you wanted … whatever this is?’

‘Oh. Er, a bit? But only a bit. Like, I’ve always thought he was a bit of alright, and I thought we should put all the war stuff behind us, so I wanted to clean slate all that stuff. Not go out into my adult life having that kind of tension, you know? And then I suppose I’ve had a bit of a crush on him for a while.’

Neville drank his tea and frowned for a while.

‘I guess the only way I’m going to really know what he’s thinking is to go and talk to him,’ he said. ‘I do not fancy being the go-between though. I draw the line at this. And if he asks me not to tell you what we talk about, I won’t, okay?’

‘Yeah, of course, I don’t want you to be all sneaky. And you can pretend like you know nothing from me, if you like, or you can tell him what I said, I don’t care. I mean, I hope he knows that I mean that it’s all cool either way, but it’s not your job to mediate or whatever.’

‘I’m going to go and battle some plants now until I feel better. And hopefully stop hating you for putting me in this position. And if he wants to talk about something else, I’m really going to hate you for making me picture you two together for no reason.’

‘All of that sounds very reasonable,’ Harry said.

‘And I don’t like the idea of playing matchmaker. It’s not a thing I do.’

‘I know that.’

‘Okay, I’m leaving now. Thank you for the tea.’

And with that, Neville left, leaving Harry very bemused. He thought he might just love Neville. 

 

Harry didn’t see Neville again until dinner. He hadn’t been looking for him, really, he just thought he might come and visit him once he’d had his talk. But it was fine that he didn’t.

Neville sat down in the chair next to Harry.

‘Hi Harry, nice day today, wasn’t it?’

‘Er, I guess,’ Harry said.

‘Yeah, lovely. So, did you know that you were being a dick or was it entirely accidental? Because it sure seems like it was accidental to me, but I’ve had a really fucking weird day and I just don’t know what to expect anymore.’

‘I don’t think I meant to be a dick,’ Harry said, suddenly very wary. ‘Do we want to go to my rooms and talk?’

‘No, not really, I’m hungry and grumpy.’

‘Okay, that’s fair. Do you mind if I cast  _ Muffliato _ ?’

‘Fine.’

Harry did.

‘You have properly fucked with Draco’s head, let me tell you that right now.’

‘Oh,’ was all that Harry could think to say to that.

‘Yeah. Oh. He keeps count of everything, all the ways that he thinks he owes you and all the times that you have won in your weird rivalry thing, and he is losing by a mile. It’s kind of depressing to hear it all said in a row like that. How can he possibly consider you equals? How can he give consent when he feels like nothing he gives you will ever tip the balance back in his favour?’

‘Oh, no, that’s not right. We put the past behind us, right?’

‘You might have, but he hasn’t. Merlin, haven’t you noticed how careful he is with us? I mean, he’s gone through enough to make him careful with anyone, but it wasn’t until today that I realised just how little of himself he shows.’

‘Yeah, but he’s opening up …’

‘Because he thought you  _ wanted  _ him to open up!’

‘I did! I don’t want him pretending to be someone he’s not, the real Draco can’t be any worse than the version in my head, the one that was actively out to get me, so he can’t lose, I don’t see the problem!’

‘He has always shown off for you,  _ before, _ and now he’s tiptoeing around you , trying to do whatever you want, he doesn’t think you know him enough to actually throw your lot in with him and he’s convinced that whatever you choose he’ll end up disappointing you.’

Harry stared at his hands.

‘Since when have you been his greatest champion?’ Harry asked sulkily.

‘Since there’s no one else who is willing to be!’

‘Have you forgotten who he was? Why are you defending him so much?’

‘First off, for a guy that apparently  _ fancies _ Malf- _ Draco _ , you’re being a  _ bit of a dick _ . See, I like someone, I’m not bringing up the mistakes of their past or getting pissy when my friend is in their corner. Second off, I thought you were of the position,  _ as I am _ , that the Malfoys might have backed the wrong horse 20 years ago, they were coerced this time around. Have you heard what they did to Narcissa? Or course you have, if I have. They didn’t stick around for giggles, mate.’

Harry knew he was in trouble then. Neville started calling people ‘mate’ a lot when he was pissed off. Harry chewed at his thumbnail, feeling awful about it.

‘Look, it’s just fucked up that you feel like you can bring up his past when it conveniences you but no one else is allowed to have problems with it.’

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ said Harry. 

Neville stood up. 

‘Just. Look, he probably needs to sort his head out more, but I think it’s more important that you sort your own head out too. He might have been a bit of a dick but he’s not in a good way and he doesn’t deserve to be screwed around.’

Neville walked away and snapped the privacy charm as he left. Harry left soon after. He wasn’t exactly hungry anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I wanted to make Harry a bit more of a dick, but I love him too much. This one took a while to get out because I had to write Draco's side as well, which I'll probably post once this fic is finished. It's pretty important that we only see Harry's perspective for the moment.  
> Also, I know that the Neville/Draco friendship isn't exactly canon-happy, but I love them and I'm keeping them that way.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry was in a sulky mood all evening. He decided that he would let himself feel as much as he wanted, and then try to be mature and have perspective in the morning. It almost worked. 

By the time the morning rolled around, Harry was more than ready for positive thinking. He decided that he needed advice, but didn’t want to talk to Neville. Neville wasn’t the kind of guy that willingly involved himself in other people’s drama and besides that, Harry thought that if he was going to be having a conversation with someone that knew Draco’s mind better than he himself did, it should probably be Draco. 

So he fire-called Hermione.

Ron answered.

‘Hey mate, I thought you were gonna call tomorrow? What’s up?’ Ron said.

‘I have Draco drama,’ Harry said, not bothering to sugar coat it. Harry might have set up pillows by the hearth, but fire-calling was still uncomfortable. He didn’t want to drag it out any longer than he had to.

‘Oh man, do you want me or Hermione?’

‘Well I was thinking Hermione, because of the whole …’

‘Actually knowing how to express her emotions thing?’

Harry grinned at Ron instead of replying. That was basically it.

‘Yeah, alright, I’ll grab her. I think she’s making dinner but Monica can probably handle it on her own.’

Ron disappeared for a bit and brought Hermione with him when he came back.

‘-better than you anyway,’ Ron was saying.

‘I am pressing pause on this fight until after Harry’s call, but you better believe you didn’t just get away with saying that, Ronald Weasley,’ Hermione said. ‘Hi Harry. Draco problems?’

‘Hey,’ Harry said. ‘Yeah, I thought we were getting closer, he actually asked  _ me _ to go flying last week, and so I kissed him, and I think I might have fucked everything up. Nev’s a bit cross about the whole thing.’

‘ _ Neville’s _ cross?’ Ron asked.

‘Yeah, Draco had a chat to him about his feelings and I don’t think I came off very well.’

‘Why? Did you force yourself on him?’ Hermione asked.

‘Oh, no, I mean, not intentionally, but Nev says that our power is so unbalanced that Draco can’t really give consent? I mean, I asked before I kissed him and I kept it … uh, short and sweet, so I don’t  _ think _ I forced him but now I’m a bit all up in my head about it and maybe I did and if it’s a maybe then that’s pretty bad still, isn’t it?’

‘Well, yeah, absolutely, but I wasn’t there and neither was Neville and that is such a touchy subject. Only Draco can really answer it.’

‘This is why I didn’t call you earlier, I just knew that your solution would be to talk to Draco!’ Harry said fondly.

‘And that’s a bad solution? Communication? Oh, Merlin, as if one boy in a relationship didn’t make that hard enough …’

Harry laughed at that. 

‘So, have you seen Draco since?’ Ron said, stubbornly ignoring the jab that was absolutely directed at him.

‘No, he wanted some space to think about everything.’

‘So what are you calling us about? If he asked for space you should give him space, Harry, you don’t have to charge your way into everything. And, frankly, he  _ should _ take the time to make sure he’s on board.’ Hermione gave Harry a particularly pointed look. He knew what she meant by it, that perhaps Harry could stand to do a bit more thinking before he made decisions.

‘Well, Nev suggested that I take the time to sort my own head out as well.’

‘I thought you knew what you wanted. You were gonna see if he was who you thought he was and if you still liked him you were gonna try and …  _ be boyfriends  _ or something, right?’ 

‘Ronald, don’t say it like that.’

‘Oh, nah, I wasn’t saying it ‘cause they’re blokes, just ‘cause Harry’s doing …  _ wooing _ … That’s always gonna be weird, ‘Mione.’

‘Yeah, well that’s a pretty simple way of putting it, but basically true. I mean, seeing as he’s thinking so much, that can’t just be a “do I like him” amount of thinking, can it? That’s a yes/ no question, hardly worth four days of holing yourself away and an afternoon of talking about your feelings with Nev.’

‘At some point in the future, I will stop doing this,’ Hermione warned. ‘I can’t be your go-to insight as to what other people might be thinking. You need to learn empathy for yourself.’

‘But you’re so very good at it,’ Harry said.

‘I know I am, and I’m doing this of my own will, not because you’ve flattered me enough. So, you’re right that the actual question of attraction should be relatively easy to answer for most people, but we can’t ignore that you’re both boys and so if Draco hasn’t thought about that before he’ll need some time to adjust to that. Did you go through any sort of soul searching when you realised you liked both boys and girls?’

‘Er … not really. I mean, Dudley and his gang were awful to Muggles that didn’t act 100% straight, but that’s different, they were awful to anyone who had the slightest point of difference. And it never seemed as big of a deal in the wizarding world. I mean, there’s Charlie and Dean and Seamus … they never got any shit about it, right? And it just didn’t seem like a big enough deal to actually concern myself with. I never was sure I was going to live long enough to ask anyone out, and …’

‘But you never told us …’ Hermione said gently.

‘I did when it became relevant. Merlin, it’s not like we’ve had many conversations about our true feelings, have we? And Ron should have known, I’ve told him I’ve thought a couple of blokes were attractive when the subject has come up.’

Hermione looked expectantly at Ron.

‘Well yeah, like Harry said, I didn’t think that was a big deal. And for the record, I may have contributed to those conversations but I am still into women exclusively. Sometimes it’s nice to have a chat before bed, can’t be helped that half our dormitory thought Cedric Diggory was sex on legs.’

‘Alright! So the gay thing wasn’t a concern for you, but it may have been for Draco we have no way of knowing. He’s the only child of a very old pureblood family, so he might be expected to do something about that, could that be an issue?’

‘Nah,’ Ron said flippantly. ‘I mean, potentially, I still don’t like old Lucius very much, but quite a few of the lines have actually passed through non-blood descendants. Like how Harry’s now the heir of the Black line. You won’t find any paperwork that confirms it because they go on and on about blood, but there are plenty of wizards who can’t have kids or don’t want to and they just adopt someone into their family, usually a friend’s kid who has lesser prospects. A couple generations later and there’s no one left to say that that person wasn’t born a whoever.’

‘And that’s just common knowledge?’

‘I mean … you could ask Neville about it, his great uncle wasn’t born Longbottom. But that’s the thing, if you get chosen to be part of a family, then you generally work even harder to make it work out. Nev’s great uncle tries to spoil Nev stupid whenever he can, it’s not his fault he’s edging on 120 and has no idea how to spoil a 17-year-old.’

‘Besides, I have Teddy,’ Harry reminded them. ‘I mean, not that I want to be thinking so far in the future.’

‘Yeah, look at that, he’s got an heir without ever needing to go through any of that nonsense!’

‘Okay, fine, so the barest technicalities shouldn’t be a problem. And Harry’s a pretty eligible match, what with being the heir to two very prominent pureblood families and the saviour of the wizarding world.’

‘Ugh, Hermione, could you not?’

‘Well you are, Harry, and people will be saying it a lot louder and in more words for a long time.’

Harry scrunched up his face in protest. 

‘And I take it the kiss was nice?’

‘Hermione!’

‘I’m just saying,  _ Ronald _ , that if there was no chemistry between them then it would be pretty easy for them to say “no thank you”, don’t you think?’

Harry nodded sheepishly. 

‘There’s a good point, ‘Mione, if he’d wanted to just say “no” outright, he coulda done that days ago, right?’

‘But what if it’s that thing again? Like where if I ask him to have lunch with me and he says “yes” no matter what he’s doing because he thinks he owes me or something?’

‘I think that’s the most dangerous outcome. We don’t want you to be accidentally coercing some nice boy into a relationship because he’s too scared to say no to you, and being too scared to say no is a terrible quality for someone in a relationship to have. You have to be somewhat equals, don’t you?’

‘Mate, we are going in fucking circles here, would you just talk to Draco?’

‘But what about figuring my own head out first?’

‘Oh, yes! I forgot about that! Harry, what are you going to do with yourself once the repairs on Hogwarts are finished?’

‘I want to do up Grimmauld Place. I want to talk to Andromeda about Teddy. I want to talk to Kingsley about what he wants from me and see if I can have a somewhat normal life. I thought if I did Grimmauld Place up then Andromeda and Teddy could both move in with me. I don’t know if I’m ready to be a single dad but Andromeda can help me and … what?’

‘Nothing, that actually makes total sense. I suppose I just thought you wanted to be an Auror.’

‘If Kingsley said that was the best use for me I would seriously consider doing it, but I think I’ve had enough of hunting and killing. I’d rather … well, I’m not entirely sure what I’d rather do, but …’

‘You don’t have to justify yourself to us, Harry, you’re totally right. Where does Draco fit into this?’

‘All I know is that he wasn’t comfortable going back to the manor and that most of his friends have left the country.’

‘Does he not talk about it?’

‘No, and it seems an awkward topic to bring up. They’ll have to go on trial, they were known Death Eaters. It must be hard to make plans for the future if you’re not sure if you have one.’

‘Do you know when that is happening?’

‘Haven’t heard anything.’

‘Maybe you should find out. See what you can do.’

‘We’re just completely on their side now, are we?’ Ron asked.

‘That seems to be the most sensible course of action, wouldn’t you think? Strive for kindness and forgiveness, particularly when we know that the person is trying their best?’

‘Right you are,’ Ron said cheerfully. ‘Just wanted to check. I thought I might go into Auroring though.’

Harry grinned. 

Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribs. ‘Don’t make this about you,’ she hissed. 

Harry was going to give Ron some shit about how much more whipped he had become since they became a couple. He’d say something about how it was unbelievable he  _ could _ become more whipped, considering what a tight leash Hermione had on him already.

‘Merlin, this whole thing is just  _ impossible _ .’ Hermione sighed. ‘There’s no way to know what he would be like in the best case scenario. He could just want to mooch off your fame or become an advocate for separating wizardkind from Muggles even further or …’

‘Torture krups for fun?’ Ron supplied.

‘Sorry, was this  _ best case _ scenario?’ Harry asked. 

‘Well, him liking you and you both being able to get past your issues and have a meaningful relationship is best case scenario. The rest of it is all up in the air.’

‘Your optimism is infectious,’ Harry said.

‘Oh, Harry, I miss you so much …’

‘Don’t  _ tell _ him, we’re supposed to be playing it cool,’ Ron teased, nudging Hermione. ‘Anyone would think we can’t cope without you.’

‘When in actuality it’s you and me who can’t cope without Hermione.’

‘Well, you said that, not me,’ Ron said.

‘When are you coming back?’ Harry asked. He tried very hard not to whine.

‘We’ll come back when you talk to Draco like a grown up,’ Ron said, as if they could just do so at any time.

‘My one weakness! It’ll be years!’

‘Ah well, at least they have nice beaches here.’

 

Harry felt much better after speaking with his friends, even though his chest ached with how much he missed them. He had actually done a lot of thinking about his future in recent weeks, it was hard not to when he felt as though he was just treading water by staying at Hogwarts. He knew he couldn’t stay still forever, much as his whole self rebelled at the idea of leaving. Having a plan (and a small, achievable one at that) made it a lot less panicky in his head. Not that raising a child was a small plan, but it was a lot more  _ domestic _ than his usual plans. And it had the added benefit of being undeniably  _ good _ . No one could tell him that Teddy was not worth every bit of his attention, or that he was not acting in a proper way for  _ the saviour _ . It was a goal that only was good, that couldn’t hurt anybody. 

Perhaps that was why he preferred it so much to the idea of becoming an Auror. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things will start to happen soon. Definite Draco and Harry in the same room in the next chapter. 
> 
> Also, I recently saw Star Wars: The Last Jedi and I would like to tell you that if I was writing this story in the Star Wars universe, it would look remarkably similar to how Rey and Kylo Ren were in this movie. No spoilers. I fucking loved the movie, obviously.


	17. Chapter 17

The next day, Harry ran into Draco completely accidentally and completely literally. They both nearly fell to the ground but recovered themselves. Merlin but Draco was attractive when he was being all coordinated. Not that nearly falling over was coordinated, but the recovery was very nice.

‘Hi,’ Harry said awkwardly.

‘Yes. Hi. Um. Merlin. Nice weather?’ Draco said, infinitely more awkwardly.

‘Shit, Draco, it’s still me, take it down a notch.’

‘Yes. Will do. Sorry.’ He shifted from one foot to another. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Yes? Yes. Let’s do that.’

Draco walked away, motioning with his head that Harry should follow. They ended up by the lake, having not talked at all on the walk down.

‘So I was thinking maybe I would just talk at you for a while and you could just sit there and listen and maybe nod but not talk back to me. Does that sound okay?’

‘Sure.’

‘Oh my god, Harry, I just said don’t talk!’

Harry managed to stop himself from laughing. Draco seemed legitimately tense.

‘Okay good. Um. So I’m pretty confused by what you want from me but I am gonna go with the assumption that you want  _ some _ kind of romantic relationship. I’m okay with that on the surface, like I’m not going to pretend that I’m not attracted to you and I think you’re an idiot but I don’t hate that, I think most people are idiots and I know you’re a well-meaning idiot. And you attract trouble like no one else in the world, but I can handle myself and even though you have the hero thing I know you let Neville and Ron and Hermione all defend themselves, so that’s nice. I don’t want to be a pet. Like, I  _ cannot _ emphasise that enough. I do not want to be your pet. I’ve been a pet and it was not nice. And no, I don’t think you would be the same, but it’s too close and I don’t want it. I like that you’ve been through stuff too. I wouldn’t want my partner to have no mileage on their soul, they wouldn’t know how to cope with my shit if that was the case. I don’t hate your friends and I know that would be important. I don’t mind if you keep me secret from everyone else because I know you’d at least tell your friends. For the record, I would understand if you wanted to keep me secret, but Neville assures me that you would keep me and my parents out of prison so in that case I would prefer to be a not-secret. Even if we were casual, if that’s what you’re after, I’d rather you be okay with meeting in public, not skulking around alleyways. And I would rather we go slow. Physically. And emotionally, I suppose.’

‘Can I talk now?’ Harry asked after Draco was quiet for about a minute.

‘No! For fucks sake, Potter, let me do the talking!’

Harry mimed zipping his lips. All this sounded a lot like a ‘yes’ to him, even if it had a lot of terms and conditions attached. It wasn’t as if he expected Draco to be low-maintenance.

‘I can’t pussyfoot around you anymore, you have to be in this for the real me. I’ve been putting on a much more calm visage than I really have. I have been pulling my punches, verbally. I can’t do that in a relationship. Also, I’m annoying. And you would need to deal with that. If I felt like you were annoyed with me, you would either have to convince me otherwise or ditch me, not mess me around. And that will come up, a fair bit, because I can hear myself, I know I’m annoying. And I have habits and you would just have to deal with them. Or not. Again. One or the other. No messing. I don’t want to tell you what they are now. I’ll tell you when I feel like it. I’ve been on my best fucking behaviour, okay, let’s just leave it at that. And you can just imagine what the real me is like. I want my partner to tell me I’m pretty  _ all the time _ . Also, I don’t know how I feel about public displays of affection. I might hate them or I might need them. Could go either way. I might change my mind. You’d need to let me win a lot of those kinds of battles, but I don’t want to feel like you’re pandering to me either. I’m pretty sure I’m the worst, but I don’t want you to agree. I want you to think I’m the best, or I’m out of here. Also I’m jealous. Really easily. Not just romantic jealousy either, I’d be jealous of you giving someone platonic preference to me as well. I like presents. Um … I can’t think of any other problems now. 

‘Oh, I should talk about the good stuff. I’m a good kisser. I’m a good flyer. If you wanted me to, I could make friends with almost anyone who doesn’t already have issue with me. I am good at politics, which would probably be useful to you. I can listen to you talk for hours and I only resent it a little bit. I have a really good memory. I’d make you work for this relationship but I would also be working really hard. I’m pretty. I can make a hangover potion with my eyes closed and it actually tastes good.’

Draco was silent for another minute but this time Harry didn’t break the silence.

‘Why aren’t you saying anything!’ Draco demanded.

‘You told me not-’ Harry gave up and just pulled Draco in for a kiss. That was too long a speech for him to respond to anyway. 

Draco kissed him back, and it was sweet and wonderful. 

‘I don’t know what you’re saying with this,’ Draco complained against Harry’s mouth.

‘I’m saying okay. Give me Draco at 100% I can take it.’

‘You’re not just saying that so you can get in my pants?’

‘No. As tempting as your pants are, I like all of you. No rush on the pants stuff.’

Draco scooted closer and held Harry’s collar as they kissed. He  _ was _ a good kisser.

‘You need to do some talking now,’ Draco told him. 

Harry pulled away reluctantly and then stood for good measure. If Draco was in his reach and willing to be kissed, he would never get any words out.

‘Okay, so I don’t want you to be some secret … whatever, I was thinking we take it slow and make sure we like each other, but I’d be open about the fact that we were dating, I wouldn’t make you hide. I’m not ashamed of you, I like you, I think you’re funny, especially when you’re less gentle with me, so you being more open is only a good thing from my perspective. I really want to talk about our plans for after Hogwarts, but I would much rather just kiss you. Because you are really pretty. And I don’t mind saying that all the time because it’s true.’

Draco was fiddling with the grass as Harry talked. ‘Okay,’ he said.

‘Okay?’

‘Okay, we can just kiss for a while and do the rest of the talking later.’

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He fell to his knees and tilted Draco’s chin up so that he could kiss him. Draco let him and kissed him back. Draco licked at Harry’s lips, giving Harry permission to deepen the kiss, to open their mouths. Draco pulled Harry’s neck down with him and suddenly Harry was lying half on top of him. He pressed kisses to Draco’s neck and jaw, relishing in Draco’s shivers beneath him. 

‘You call this going slow?’ Harry asked breathlessly.

‘I’m keeping my clothes on, aren’t I?’

Harry groaned and forced himself to roll off Draco. One of them had to be somewhat gentlemanly. 

‘So you and Nev had a chat?’ Harry said, grasping for the first topic he could think of.

‘That man is a national treasure.’

‘No arguments here. What’d he say?’

‘He … you know what, he might not be cool with me saying.’

‘I am very curious, but I will drop it for now.’

This time, their silence wasn’t burdened by the need to get their feelings on the table or by unexpressed sexual tension. It was just nice. Like it used to be when they were working on Hogwarts together. 

‘Draco … best case scenario, everyone lets the past go … what would you want to do with yourself?’

‘In the holidays between first and second year my family hired this wizard to help me choose a career based on my exam results and some aptitude stuff. I was going to be a curse breaker.’

‘Like Bill Weasley?’

‘Yeah but private, not with Gringotts. Also, don’t assume compare me to the Weasleys.’

‘Bill is insanely cool.’

‘Anyway, that was the plan, though I didn’t do as well in Care of Magical Creatures as I’d hoped and that’s a pretty big part of it. Like if you’re protecting something, it’s a good idea to choose a variety of obstacles, some creatures, some curses, some puzzles. And you have to be able to get past them yourself, that’s important. I mean … that’s what the books say, I don’t have any idea what it’s like in real life.’

‘No, that makes sense. Like how Dumbledore protected the philosopher’s stone.’

‘Yes … you did get past that when you were eleven. Oh shit, did I choose curse breaking just to be better than you?’

Harry rolled his head so he could see Draco’s face. He looked vaguely horrified.

‘Don’t mind me, just questioning whether I’ve made any decisions in my life that weren’t to spite you or to save my skin.’

‘I think most people are pretty reactionary, I wouldn’t worry about it.’

‘You’re not even surprised … Of course it makes sense to you that my whole life revolves around you.’

‘Woah, that’s not—no, Draco, I’m not agreeing or disagreeing, you …’

‘Chill, Potter. You’re gonna have to get better at that if this is gonna be a thing.’

Harry laughed accidentally and then slapped a hand over his mouth. Draco was smirking at him.

‘Just tell me I’m pretty, I thought we went though this.’

‘You’re pretty,’ Harry said, leaning over and giving Draco a soft kiss. ‘Really pretty. Pretty eyes, especially, pretty cheekbones, pretty hair.’ Harry kissed Draco all over his face. ‘So fucking pretty.’

Draco blushed and tried to cover his face with his hands, but Harry’s face was in the way. 

‘Okay, I’ll give you that one—Potter, you can stop—Harry! You’ve made your point!’

Harry laughed and rolled off. 

‘I did alright, didn’t I?’

‘May be slightly good at that.’ Draco reached out slightly and grabbed at Harry’s hand. 

Harry squeezed back. He was deliriously happy.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am _so_ sorry for the long pause. I promise I'll update more frequently!

Dating Draco was very different from being friends with him and yet very similar. He seemed to think he was being a lot more intense than he actually was. Whenever Harry felt like he had been left behind in some logic spiral and Draco wasn’t letting him catch up, he just complimented him. It was nice to be able to voice the compliments. 

And the more that he was allowed to look at him, really look at him, the way he’d only been able to sneak looks before, the more he truly saw how beautiful that Draco was, so it was an easy job. 

They finished the castle repairs a week after Draco and Harry decided to be together. A day later, Professor McGonagall called a meeting for all the residents left at the castle. Harry held Draco’s hand under the table as they waited. Draco had decided that he wasn’t okay with public displays of affection, but also wasn’t okay with Harry keeping his distance in public. It was the most Harry had ever had to work in any relationship and he loved it. Neville had asked Harry if it wasn’t exhausting, and Harry had honestly told him that it wasn’t. The thrill he got from getting it right more than made up for it. Of course he wanted to be challenged. It wasn’t surprising at all.

The cast of residents at Hogwarts had changed a lot, with only McGonagall, Harry and the Malfoys staying at the castle every day since the Battle. It was a bit bizarre to have a formal meeting with only fourteen people there, but McGonagall pulled it off.

‘Thank you all for coming,’ McGonagall said. ‘The repairs to Hogwarts are complete. Or as complete as they are likely to get. The enchantments will take some time to regain their full strength, but are certainly enough to withstand the kind of assault that has now become very unlikely. 

‘Months ago, when the repair process started, I told you all that anyone was welcome to make their home here so long as they contributed to the repairs or the wellbeing of the castle in some way. There is now no longer a need for this, and yet some of those who have made their home here have no wish to vacate the premises. Unfortunately, Hogwarts is first and foremost a school. And in almost no time at all, we will be welcoming students back. Understandably, we cannot act as a refuge once this happens.

‘That is not to say that we will toss anyone on their feet. We are a community, a community that has been harmed grievously and yet one that has come together in peace. Solutions do not happen overnight, but I would like to request that you all take some time to think about your next steps. In three days, I will be holding another meeting, this time, one that is open to discussion from all of you. Please be ready to communicate your goals for the future and to offer help to any who need it.’

McGonagall took her seat again and the plates filled with food. Harry let go of Draco’s hand so that he could eat. Draco made a small noise of displeasure, so Harry scooted slightly closer so their arms were touching.

‘Ugh, I’m so needy, how do you even put up with me?’ Draco asked.

‘Everyone wants to feel needed. Besides, you  _ are  _ shockingly attractive. I need to stick close, just in case someone else thinks they have a shot with you.’

Draco gave a little huff of laughter and started eating. Harry shared a small smile with Narcissa who was sitting opposite them. 

‘I know you guys don’t want to leave Hogwarts,’ Harry said, gesturing at the Malfoys, ‘but who else was wanting to stick around?’

Draco glanced around to make sure that everyone else was having their own conversations before replying.

‘Basically everyone,’ he said, quietly as if it was a secret. ‘The ones that were just … helping because they’re good people … they left as soon as it was obvious that they weren’t really needed. The Ministry has set up loads of temporary houses, there are subsidised rooms at Leaky, but …’

Lucius put his arm around Narcissa and leaned closer so he could speak quietly to them, taking over from Draco.

‘People don’t know what comes next,’ he said. ‘There are those like us who acted in ways that,’ he paused delicately, ‘ _ perhaps _ should result in at least some disciplinary action. Then there are some who acted in … less than  _ classy _ ways, but were not on the side of  _ You Know Who _ . Looting, squatting, scamming … There are those who were on your side but who acted in ways that  _ would _ have been considered … sublegal. But only for purposes of defeating  _ You Know Who _ . None of these people, all in different categories, are quite sure when or if the other shoe will drop.’

Harry considered.

‘You mean like how I broke into Gringotts and don’t know if the goblins are gonna want revenge on that or if getting rid of Voldemort means we’re even?’

‘Yes, actually. And even once the goblins forgive you, because they will forgive you, lest they risk losing all their wizard customers, what do you do with your life now?’

‘Are you asking me-me? Or like rhetorically asking me to imagine the struggle of everyone post war?’

Lucius smiled. His smiles didn’t even creep Harry out anymore.

‘Let’s go with asking you directly, first.’

Harry decided to tell them what he’d already told his friends. He gave a little chuckle. He’d just realised what Ron was talking about when he complained about all the pureblood families being too close for comfort. He looked Narcissa in the eyes as he spoke 

‘I was going to do up your cousin’s house and then ask your sister and grand-nephew to move in with me.’

Lucius gave a startled laugh.

‘The house is very big,’ Harry said, more seriously. ‘You’d be welcome to stay too, until you figured something out.’

Draco made a slightly hysterical giggling noise.

‘Or not,’ Harry said. ‘Sorry, should have mentioned it to you first. I just wanted to … offer. You know, until you found a new place, settled on curse breaking or healing or modeling, whatever you want.’

‘I thought we weren’t allowed to talk about your days as a child model?’ Lucius said evilly. There was the smirk he’d been hiding these past few months.

Harry looked at Draco, who had put his head in his hands.

‘Please say you have pictures,’ he said, willing to sacrifice boyfriend points just this once.

Narcissa and Lucius grinned at each other.

‘So many pictures,’ Narcissa assured him.

 

Harry spent the next three days talking to each of the other thirteen people at Hogwarts. McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick were easy, they were going to keep teaching. Sprout was considering taking on Neville as an apprentice so she could take Potions if Slughorn wasn’t willing to come back. McGonagall was frazzled, trying to build their staff back up. Harry briefly considered taking up the Defence position in a moment of weakness, remembering the joy and satisfaction he got out of DA, before he remembered how much he wanted to be there for Teddy, how much he wanted to help with the rebuilding efforts. Hard to do all that from a full-time job in Scotland.

He talked to students, encouraged them to keep going to Hogwarts, guaranteed his protection of the castle, as strange as it felt to say that. It felt stranger to see the two fourteen year olds (now orphans, he wasn’t quite sure how to comfort them, his pain was so different yet so similar) nod seriously when he gave them that guarantee. They trusted him more than Hogwarts.

He stole Draco away from his conversation with Neville with no remorse and just hugged him the second they were alone behind an alcove. Draco hugged him back and stroked his back nicely for all of ten seconds before he pushed him back to look at his face. 

‘What happened?’

‘Clyde and Jess didn’t want to come back to school ‘til I told them I had Hogwarts’s back,’ Harry said. He wanted to go back to hugging Draco, but Draco’s hands were firm on his shoulders.

‘Ugh, fourthies, I swear we were not that bad at their age.’

‘Draco, you were unbearable fourth year,’ Harry groaned.

‘Well, that’s just rude.’ he sniffed. ‘Harry, they never got to know Hogwarts without You Know Who back. They don’t get that it’s the safest place because when everything is on fire, the least on fire place is still on fire.’

‘Yeah …’

‘No, look at me. You’re not all that. No one wants you to save the world again. We’re bored of that now. But you did good saying you would. They don’t know better.’

Harry smiled. He had the worst boyfriend.

‘Seriously, I don’t care about the saviour stuff,’ Draco said. ‘I just like you because you’re hot.’ 

Draco kissed Harry nicely for a little bit, but pulled away before Harry was ready.

‘Now, you interrupted my very important conversation, I’m not rewarding that. These kisses are because you looked pretty, don’t misinterpret them.’

‘Mkay,’ Harry said, stealing one last kiss.

‘Get back to your meddling,’ Draco told him. ‘You’re not allowed to stand me up tonight.’

 

Harry and Draco’s nightly Seeker’s games had become a lot less about catching the Snitch. Now they made out and showed off to each other. Harry could do a lot more pushups than Draco, but no matter how hard he pushed himself, Harry couldn’t catch Draco on foot. Harry’s dives were neater but Draco could shove with a deceptive strength. Apparently a staple of Slytherin practice.

On the brooms, Draco could knock Harry off-balance easily, hooking his ankle and shouldering him and knocking his broom handle. On the ground, Harry could tackle him to the ground and pin him before he got a chance to use any of his tricks. Once he had him down, no amount of squirming could shake his grip. Pouting his lips for a kiss, however, was very effective in making Harry give up on that and focus on kissing him silly until he felt like he was going to die if he wasn’t allowed to start taking clothes off. He forced himself to roll off and get back on his broom every time and was rewarded with Draco’s equally frustrated groan. Harry was all about challenges. He was going to be the best, least pushy boyfriend.

Merlin but he hoped Draco gave in soon.

 

When the next meeting arrived. Harry stood up as soon as McGonagall opened up the floor.

‘My house hasn’t been hit to the extent of Hogwarts, but it has been hit. I could use a hand fixing it up. Same deal as here, food and board and my protection, for what it’s worth. And for anyone that needs guidance, I can help find you a place to stay, to work. People … tend to listen to me.’

‘Thank you, Mr Potter,’ McGonagall said. ‘Anyone else? In that case, I propose an excursion to Mr Potter’s house so that anyone who wishes to take him up on his offer may know what they are getting into.’

Harry nodded. 

‘Professor Flitwick, I may need help with the protection charms,’ he said.

Professor Flitwick nodded, and then hesitated. 

‘Minerva, this would be the old headquarters, wouldn’t it?’ She nodded. ‘In that case, we may have to postpone the excursion until the weekend. I’ll have my work cut out for me if Alastor did half the spells he used on his own home.’

‘Very well.’

 

Flitwick asked McGonagall and Lucius to come with them to Grimmauld Place; McGonagall for her knowledge of Dumbledore’s spell habits and Lucius for his ability to recognise Dark magic. Narcissa and Draco came as well.

Harry handed a piece of paper with his address around. He lead the way inside.

‘I didn’t kill you,’ he told the fake Dumbledore calmly.

‘Oh,’ said Flitwick. ‘Yes, that is a nasty one. And yet, obviously, designed to come into play  _ after _ the death of the caster.’

He took out his wand and picked up the threads of the spells. He and McGonagall discussed theory while Harry lead the way into the kitchen. Kreacher Apparated in and started making tea for them, while Harry stood up a couple of chairs for his guests. He cast a scourgify, and grimaced at his shoddy spell. Draco sighed and fixed it with a swish of his own wand. 

‘Nice work,’ Harry said appreciatively. 

Draco punched Harry in the shoulder to thank him for the gracious compliment. 

 

It took three full days before the dangerous spells were safe enough for company. Harry had no experience in showing people through his home, and even though Grimmauld Place had become a kind of sanctuary for him at the beginning of his Horcrux hunting mission, it still didn’t quite feel like his. 

Draco seemed to feel just as out of place. Harry noticed that he straightened things compulsively and once or twice saw him pocket something, only to put it back in the same place hours later. He would come up to Harry and demand attention, only to disappear for hours right after.

Harry didn’t mind any of it, but didn’t know what he could do to help, wasn’t sure if confronting him was allowed. More than anything, he wanted to just have half an hour alone with Draco, wanted to kiss him and reassure him that he didn’t mind if he had strange coping mechanisms. But they were all working hard and Harry hadn’t met with Draco in his room since they got together in case Draco took it the wrong way. 

  
  



End file.
